Justice Will Rhyne
by Little Raven-Hawk
Summary: After 14 years, Rhyne returns to Hadrian's Wall. To her beloved knights, her brothers. But she has a hidden agenda, one that is secret from those she loves most. Will they forgive her? Will the one she has loved for 14 years, still love her? COMPLETE
1. Default Chapter

Justice Will Rhyne

Chapter One- Reunion

'_You are to stay out of sight, until the Woads attack'._ She replayed his instruction over and over again in her memory.

From a thick cover of trees Rhyne could see the knights escorting new Roman recruits back to the Wall. _Do they know what Hell they have entered?_ She asked her self with a shake of her head.

The young girl and horse behind her cracked a branch lying on the forest floor. Rhyne snapped back at her silently, "SHH! Quiet!" The girl froze with a stern face. She was used to remarks like these. The black wolf trotting beside them, a long time companion to Rhyne, growled at her mutely, sensing his friends anger. Rhyne looked down at him and smiled faintly. _He always knows what I am feeling_.

She turned her attention back to the field. She stared in fear for a moment as one of the knights had stopped his horse and was looking intently in their direction. She stopped breathing, for if he found them, everything would be ruined. But he kicked his horse, and they were moving once more. Rhyne breathed out a sigh of relief, gazing once more in anger at the young girl behind her, who still held her passive mask.

It had been fourteen years since she has seen Arthur and his Knights, but knew each as she stared on them from above. Though she only knew them for a short time, they all had a deeper connection. A sort of string that tied all their fates together. It was so long ago…a different time…a different life…

"Father, must you go?" the little girl asked pleadingly in a deep hug.

"It is just like every other mission, my dear. I will be back in a couple of days," her father replied kneeling in front of her now.

Tears rolled down her face. "You are lying. I know the Saxons, father. I have heard the other knights talking of them in hushed voices when I am around, thinking I do not hear. They are different from the Woads. Please don't go, father." She was sobbing now, and her face was apple red.

He wiped her tears away. "Rhyne, it is all going to be okay. You will stay with Gawen and Celeste, and you will help them in the tavern, as you do every night. You would like that wouldn't you?" He asked her, smiling.

"I am no longer a child, father. I know this is a death mission," this time she had a stern face.

He looked at her hopelessly. "You are right, you are no longer a child. Only ten years old and you already understand the cruelness of the world." They were silent for a moment. "Do you wish someone else to look after you?"

"I will look after her," said a boy running up from behind them and putting an arm around Rhyne.

Her father smiled. "Would you like Arthur to look after you while I am away?" he asked excitingly.

Faking a smile, she nodded. Her father took off his necklace and tied it around her neck. It hung low on her stomach, much too big for her. The silver talisman shined in the sun, bearing the symbol of his, of her,Sarmatian Tribe. "As long as a sword is in your hand-"

"Justice will Reign," she finished. Rhyne clutched the talisman in her hand looked to her father's eyes. "You are that future, my daughter." There was a long silence.

"I will return to you. Whether in this life or the next," and he hugged her one last time, placing a kiss on her cheek and headed to the stables.

She watched him go. "It will be okay," Arthur encouraged at my side and he pulled me away with his hand in mine…her father would not return…

Rhyne stood, long after the ceremony ended, in front of the burial mound of her father. She had not shed a tear, she could. _He said he would return, and I hold him to it._ The world seemed to move fast around her. She did not know how long she stood there until there was a tap on her shoulder. Arthur was standing beside her, and darkness filled his features. "Do not loose hope, your father is not alone. His already fallen comrades greet him in the afterlife.

Wisdom that was beyond his years stared into her soul. "Your father, nor mine, would wish you to be sad. They followed their own path, and you must follow yours." He spoke with a slight sadness of mentioning his father. They both looked to the burial mound to the left of her father's, the flame of the candle was newly lit. "Your father always stood by mine, no matter what the cost. It was my father's wish for them to be buried next to each other. But I did not think it would be at the same time." She took his hand and they walked from the cemetery.

"There are some people I want you to meet. They are young Sarmatians, all about my age. Pelaguis says if I wish, it could be my choice to lead them, as my father did."

"Do you wish that, to fight like your father?"

"I think it would please him, and I owe that to him," he said somberly.

They walked into the courtyard and there stood twenty four boys in front of them. For a long time they all stared, stared into each other's souls. For at that moment each would be bound to each other for eternity.

How could anyone have guessed what would happen in the next year…

The wagon was pulled away from the group of pouting boys. "I will return to you, in this life or the next," and Rhyne's hand was ripped from Arthur's. She yelled from the open curtain, "Remember, as long as a sword is in your hand-"

"Justice will Reign!" they all finished. The chubby but fierce Bors ran forward, "Rhyne!" He lifted his fist up high and bellowed, "ROOUUSS!" and all the young knights joined him. She waved from the wagon until they could see each other no longer, and they all shed tears. Rhyne hoped her new owner would be kind.

Lives changed then…for better…and worse. Their fates remained cloudy, leaving only one faintly sparkling star in the coming storm…

A single tear rolled down her cheek and she clutched the talisman around her neck. A great cry broke the spell. Woads were filtering through the trees on the other side of the field. Rhyne watched as the native fighters collidedwith the Knights and other Roman guard. She looked back to the young girl behind her. "Stay here! And you," she pointed to the standing wolf, "Watch her!" He looked a little disappointed, as if ready for action, but obeyed and sat in front of the young girl's horse. With that, Rhyne started down the hill.

A single arrow flew bytattoed cheek knight'shead, hitting the Woad coming towards him. He looked back and saw a woman on a horse rushing into the action, shooting another arrow past him, killing yet another Woad. She sped past him, andhis glare followed her. The rest of the knight's realized her presence as she screamed the Sarmatian battle cry, "ROOUUSS!"

They looked at her in bewilderment, but realized they were still in the middle of a fight. In between each Woad they killed, they all searched for the woman who entered the field.

She dismounted her horse and found herself next to a heavy built long haired knight, who used a mace and long dagger as weapons. He swung at her, but shestepped back from his blow. "Why do you fight me?" she asked angrily.

"Why do you join the fight?" he questioned.

"It looked like you could use the help," she joked with a smirk, which caught him off guard. She suddenly reminded him of someone, but did not know who. Her scream washed away the thought.

"Look out!" and she threw a dagger past him, killing a Woad about to strike him in the back. He was stunned by her actions once more, not knowing what to say, but she trotted away, further into the battle.

All the knights saw the exchange and still could not make out the situation. She had come out of nowhere. Why had she come to help them?

Shebeheaded her last Woad. His blood splattered onto her face, along with the rest of the blood that covered her body. Rhyne walked over to the river and splashed water on her face. The blood streamed off, leaving streaks of it on her cheeks. She stood and turned to find seven blades at her neck, with Excalibur in the center.

"Who are you?" Arthur asked in a dreadful commanding voice.

Rhyne was not alarmed, nor frightened. She chuckled, still out of breath from the battle, and simply sheathed her sword at her back. "Is this how you treat old friends?" she asked through the blood mask on her face.

They all suddenly looked confused. "We have no friends beyond the Table," Arthur claimed angrily.

She laughed again, remembering the stories of the Round Table Arthur had made when he was appointed thier commander.This caused the knights to strengthen the hold on their weapons. "Well, if that's so maybe you should just kill me, for you definitely failed to recognize me." She was still breathing hard, and looked Arthur in the eyes. He looked her up and down. Her leather trousers were worn, along with her knee-high leather boots. Her armor was British in design over her hips and chest. It was sleeveless, and she wore leather around her forearms. She had a large dragon tattoo over her left shoulder, and an arm band ofentertwined serpentsover the other. Her deep red hair pulled back in a long braid with a few strands dangling in front of her face. Her eyes were a striking emerald. But the thing that caught his eye was the talisman she wore at her neck, the other knights noticed it as well.

His anger deepened. "Did you get that off someone you killed? That is not British, as your armor is," as he motioned towards the necklace.

She looked down to the talisman. "I know. It is Sarmatian, much like your knights," she said matter-of-factly.

The long-haired knight she saved pushed his knife closer to her neck. "We only had one friend that wore a talisman like that," he said through anger. All the knights showed despair in their eyes, as if suddenly slapped in the face with a memory that wished to forget.

She did not move as his knife sat up against the skin of her throat. "So does that mean your friend is dead? Or is it possible she's standing right in front of you?"

It took them a moment to comprehend her words. The first knight she saved pushed his long curvedblade closer to her neck as well. His eyes were piercing through the hair dangling in front of his face."You're lying. She left a long time ago." He said it with a horrible anger, but she could sense his sorrow. She could sense all their sorrow.

She closed her eyes and dipped her head. They saw her despair for the first time. In a low voice, she spoke, "And she told you she would return. In this life, or the next." She said it slowly, willing them to believe her. There was a long silence as they all played back the memory of her parting.

The silence was broken as the short bald knight stepped forward, with his blades still drawn. "I don't believe you!"

With a stern voice of understanding she spoke again, "Remember, as long as a sword is in your hand…" and she waited for the answer, waited for their memory to return to them.

After a long silence Arthur whispered, "Justice will Reign." It hit all the knights hard. A girl, their dear friend, after so many years of separation, finally returned to them, just as she said she would. They all shifted on their feet, losing their balance from the weight of this realization, and started lowering their weapons.

She laughed out loud, and it stung their hearts. "It is really that horrible to see me, or should I just disappear for another fourteen years?" She asked it sarcastically, and waited for a disbelieving answer. But instead she was tackled by seven laughing knights yelling her name. They were all speaking at once, and could understand a thing any of them were saying. "What? I can't understand any of you, one at a time!"

Soon enough they all stepped back from her and she greeted them one at a time. First was Arthur, he swung her in circles when holding her. "I feared we would never meet again." She started to cry from how much happiness she held seeing them once more, and the rest followed suit. "I promised you I would come back," she whispered into his ear. He squeezed her tighter. She called each by their name as they walked up to her. Bors cradled her in his arms, "AH! You Wench! Now you can serve me drinks in the tavern, be my slave, just as I said you would!" She slapped him, "Don't count on it!" she yelled in a playful tone.

She punched Lancelot in the shoulder before he could hug her. "What was that for?" he exclaimed. "Fourteen years without bruising you," she got an evil look on her face, "I really missed that." A few boxing matches and bruises later, the last knight walked up to her and they just stared at each other for a moment. "Tristan," she whispered, and more tears rolled down her still blood streaked cheeks. He held her in an embrace that no other knight gave. They said nothing, just stood there holding each other. When they finally parted he wiped the tears from her cheeks and stood back, with the rest of the knights.

This was more emotion they have all shown since the day of her depart. Never before, have they held someone closer to thier heart. None get the love that they share for this one girl, no, woman. The only others that the knights even cared for were thier own. Love was a hard thing to show in a lifetime of war.

"How did you know?" Arthur asked confused.

Rhyne chuckled. "Know what?"

"How did know us, after so many years. And all the others. How did you know, it was us?"

She looked at them, one at a time. She saw the men that they have become, but inside she also saw the boys that she once knew, fourteen years ago. She smiled, then spoke, "Everyone changes, even over fourteen years. But your soul never does." They looked at her, astonished with what she said. Still after so many years, she was still their sister, and they still her brothers. Rhyne was the one to break the silence, "There is someone I want to all to meet." She turned to face the woods she had charged out of, and blew a long whistle. First a black wolf exited the confines of the trees. She gave a smile, but the knights all gave a contorted look, not expected a wolf to run to her. Then another rider came towards them.

The wolf reached Rhyne's side and put both paws on her chest as a greeting. He then turned to the knights and growled. "Hey!" Rhyne said in protest. "These are my friends, the ones I told you about. Be nice!" The wolf sat down and faced the knights, looking at each one individually, as if looking into their souls, trying to decipher if they were friends after all. "This is my dear friend, Hawk. But I always call him Little Brother," she said gesturing towards the creature. The young girl road up next to her, and instantly got a worried look on her face as she saw all the blood on Rhyne's face. "Are you alright?"

"Yes, yes. I'm fine. None of it is mine," as she waved her hand in objection. "This," she motioned to the girl, still mounted on her horse, "This is Sparrow. My daughter." There was a silence between them. The knights could not believe what they had heard, those names. Rhyne finally spoke, "Sparrow, these are my old friends, and the famous knights I have told you about." She began on one end, and started naming them all. "Galahad, Gawain, Lancelot, Arthur, Bors, Dagonet," she paused a moment, then continued, "and Tristan."

Sparrow gave an intent look to Tristan, as if she knew something he did not. He stared back at her, with a passive face, but so much was running through his mind. _Their names, the wolf, and the girl. I don't believe she gave them those names_. The situation was too much for his heart. For so long, she had been gone, only a memory. And now, with one more year until his service is done, she is back, like an arrow to the heart. But she had always been that way. _And a daughter_. He was not sure whether to let his heart break, or soar.

Their gaze was broken by one of the new Roman recruits riding upbehind the knights. "We have collected our dead, sir. We should move out before more come." They all jumped as he spoke.

Arthur turned to face him. "Good. Ready yourselves to leave." The man rode away and Arthur turned back to Rhyne. "Are you ready?"

"For what?"

"To come home."

She laughed out loud. "More than you know."


	2. Sparrow and Hawk

**_Disclaimer: I do not own any of King Arthur or his Knights. _**

**_The story is set about 6 months or so before the movie._**

**_Zelinia: She will show some weaknesses. But I will not give them probably until chapter three or four. Thanks for the review_**

Justice Will Rhyne

Chapter Two-Sparrow and Hawk

The valley was filled with laughter as the caravan made its way back to Hadrian's Wall. Rhyne was happier than she had ever been. Sparrow could see it one her face. She was staring at her mother from behind, as she was listening to stories being told by one of the knights, Bors, if she could remember properly. Rhyne would occasionally look back at her, and she would smile.

Lancelot rode up beside her. "It's Sparrow, right?"

"Yes. And you are Lancelot, correct?"

"The one and only," he said with a grin. There was another eruption of laughter ahead of them. "Have you ever seen your mother this happy?"

Sparrow looked up at her, studied the smile on her face. "No. Not that I can remember. She has always been the one to sit in the dark corner while others laughed and told stories. I always ask her why, and she always tells me the same thing. 'Because my daughter, my past is dark, I have known a lot of sadness'." At these words Lancelot's face grew cold. "There was only ever one thing that made her smile."

"And what was that?" Lancelot asked attentively.

Sparrow smiled at him, as if that was a dumb question. It made him feel small and ignorant, which was a surprise, even to him. "You. All of you. Whenever she told me the stories of your adventures and meetings there was always a smile on her face. For those few moments her face would glow, then all went back to darkness." She then seemed to drift off into memory, and Lancelot did not take his eyes off of her. "She always spoke of especially one."

"Who, which one?" in a small whisper, as if what she was about to say was a secret.  
Sparrow looked ahead and did not speak again. "Who?" he asked in a louder tone, having a huge need to know the answer. She still did not speak, but still looked ahead. He finally followed her line of sight and saw she was looking at the incoming horseman, Tristan. "Oh," he said finally, looking down.

He said it so sadly that it made Sparrow turn back into his direction. "What? You sound as if you already knew."

"I should have. Ever since we met her, there was always one she was with, him. He was the one she sparred with, ate with, talked with, and when she had bad dreams she came to him for comfort. He was her hero. They were so much alike, both cunning and independent. Not like the rest of us. That is why the names she gave you and the wolf, were such a shock to us." She tilted her head in question. "We started calling them Hawk and Sparrow, and eventually they started calling each other that as well. All of us were young then, but it made no difference. We all knew they were meant for each other."

It still did not make sense to her. She was always so sad, all those years we lived with those Britons, always so sad, for only one person. _By the time Mother was my age, I had already been born. I don't understand? _Not realizing she said that last sentence out loud, Lancelot answered her, "One day, you will."

She looked up at him confused. "What?"

"You said you didn't understand. One day, when you see them together, you will."

She still looked at him awkwardly. "I said that." He nodded to her. "Oh, well, it's a bad habit. I tend to say what I think without knowing it."

He laughed out loud, louder than the group ahead of them, and they looked back. "Well, then you are definitely your mother's daughter." Rhyne looked at her questionably, and Sparrow just shrugged, and put her hands up in bewilderment.

Bors yelled back, "Lancelot, you can't be ten feet from a woman without trying to seduce her!" Bors laughed hysterically, but all the other knights glared at Lancelot. He said nothing, but had a stunned look on his face. Rhyne looked at her daughter with a concerned eye, but saw her start to laugh. Everyone shifted their gaze to her. And she finally spoke through her giggles. "Even this one could not find the key for that, even if I was ten years older, because his brain is way lower than it should be!"

Everyone stared at her astonished, thinking something like that could come out of her mouth, and laughter erupted through them, except for Lancelot, who glared at Sparrow, but she was too busy to notice. Gawain came up from behind Lancelot and smacked his back, "You are right, she is her mother's daughter!"

Silence was between Lancelot and Sparrow for a long while, as talk went on around them, and they still rode next to each other. She kept looking over to him, but he kept his eyes forward, on the trail ahead. Finally, reached over and set her hand on his. Her touch startled him for a moment as he looked down to her smiling face. "I'm sorry…if I hurt your pride. It just seems like you have a lot to spare." She never took her hand away, but waited for his answer. Her skin was rough. Like her mother, she had probably been training with weapons from a young age. Yet, her touch was soothing to him. There was an energy that flew from her viens, one he could not describe. She had a way about her, that he wished he had. But…what was he thinking. He could never…no, she was too young for him, and was Rhyne's daughter. She would never allow it. _She is so much like her mother. _

By now he had been looking at her for some time and began to look at him awkwardly as she called his name. "Lancelot. Are you okay?"

He finally came out of his trance. "Yes. Yes, I'm fine," and he galloped forward next to Arthur at the head of the line. Gawain came trotting up next to her. "You don't want to get involved with that one. He's the kind that breaks hearts."

"Did you not hear me before? There is another curse I got from my mother. We never lie. Truth, is the most valuable thing in life, and beyond that, justice." But she did lie. Sparrow looked at this man's lion like appearance and remembered he fought like one as well, watching all the knights from the cover of the trees earlier that afternoon.

He looked at her with a shake of disbelief. "Well, I will give you one thing, you are more an adult than any child I have ever known. In fact, I don't think I took the time to get to know any."

"Child!" She exclaimed. She looked insulted. "I am fourteen winters. Mother tells me I am nearly expert with a sword and bow. She has told me for years 'training from my knights is all you need'. I am a trained witch, and have just as much knowledge as mother does. The only thing I lack is experience."

It was a slap in the face for Gawain. He heard only the first part of her speech, and the rest blurred in his horror. _Fourteen! That means Rhyne had to be…no. How is that possible? _His mind was burning with a million questions. But he did not hear Sparrow calling his name. "GAWAIN!" She finally screamed with he did not answer the first three times. All the knights looked onto the scene. "Mother! Something is wrong with your knights. They seem to be deaf, dumb, or both!" She looked to Rhyne with frustration.

Arthur looked towards Rhyne, "Your knights?" He said it was a playful smile.

She shrugged. "Well, seeing as how all of you were so happy to see me, I think I safely claim that to be true." They rode in perfect content for a while listening to the chatter around them. Hawk suddenly came through the trees with a rabbit corpse in his mouth. He ran up happily to the front of Rhyne's jet black horse and starting hopping around annoying. Finally the horse reared and almost stomped on the poor creature, who ran up the trail alarmingly. Rhyne laughed strikingly. "That's what you get, Little Brother. How many times has Zyfer told you not to do that!" But the wolf did not look back as he ran over the hill.

"Where did you find him?" Arthur asked.

"The wolf?" She chuckled. "Well, actually, he found me. Led me to shelter when I delirious in the end of pregnancy. He saved my life. Haven't be able to get rid of him since," she said jokingly and Arthur shook his head with a smile. Then she suddenly turned almost grave with sadness. "No, I think he feels he has a duty to protect me. We have fought along side each other for many battles, and he has saved my life countless times. It may seem ridiculous to others, but he truly is my little brother. He was there to protect me when no one else was, when I was at my worst."

Arthur nodded thoughtfully. Never had he thought any other animal, but a horse, could have so much loyalty to a human. But, he has seen greater miracles. His direction of thought was interrupted when the wolf came back into view. He sat on top the hill and dropped the rabbit in his mouth, then gave a long welcoming howl. "What's he going off 'bout?" Bors yelled from behind. "More Woads?" He asked hopefully.

"No," Rhyne said was a lifting smile. "What, then. What is it?" Bors yelled again.

Rhyne turned to look back at her daughter. "We're Home." They shared a moment of utopia before someone spoke.

"Oh," as Bors hands shot up into the air with irritation. "I could have told you that, and I'm not event the bloody Scout!" as he motioned towards Tristan who was on the other side of Arthur. Sparrow punched him in the arm, "Thanks for ruining the moment, Baldy!" We all laughed at how forward Sparrow was already with the knights, even though she had only met them a few hours ago.

The Wall slowly appeared over the hill, and Rhyne's face brightened the closer they got to the gates. She closed her eyes and thought of all the memories before her parting. It had not changed a bit. Still as busy as ever, and still home. She would spend all night in the tavern tonight, celebrating her return, even if it was by herself. She could die blissfully, at this moment, because she had never been happier. And later, when all other were asleep, she would visit them. And her heart broke for all those she had lost the last 14 years of her life, it would not be easy.

Upon entering the gates a short and jolly looking man came walking up to the knights, eyeing Rhyne and Sparrow. He acknowledged Arthur with a respectful nod. "Arthur. Lancelot. Welcome Back." And he took the reins of their horses.

"Jols, this is Rhyne and her daughter Sparrow. Old friends, they will be staying here from now on," Arthur said pointing out the two women.

Jols walked up to them. "Would you like me to lead and groom your horses?"

"No," Rhyne said in a happy tone. "We will both do it ourselves. Nothing has changed around here recently has it? Will I get lost finding my way to the tavern?" She leaned in to ask Galahad who was standing next to her.

"No. We will meet to there later. Celebrate your return. Maybe have a knives throwing contest. You up for the challenge," he asked raising an eyebrow, knowing she never step down from a challenge like that. _So much for by myself_, she thought.

"Your on. But what if I win?" she asked tilting her head in cockiness.

Lancelot heard our bet from afar and he walked over. "How about you and I have a go? And if I win you share my bed tonight?" He asked it with a smug smirk on his face, and the other knights rolled their eyes.

_It seems nothing has changed around here_. She remembered how he always acted around the girls of the fort when they were younger, always fighting over who got the kiss on the cheek from him. She smiled biting her bottom lip. "And if I win…two weeks no women, not even contact." The rest of the knights heard the exchange and looked at him, waiting for a answer. His smirk was wiped off his face in an instant. She knew that was a big risk for him, but knew he wouldn't turn it down, or else he would never hear the end of it. He finally nodded a little concerned and they all walked away towards the area Rhyne remembered as the resident halls.

As Rhyne and Sparrow finished grooming their horses a woman walked into the stables holding an infant. She was tall, bright red hair, and had an enormously happy smile. Rhyne recognized her immediately. "Vanora! You are still hanging out with this lot! What happened to finding a "good" man?" She hugged her lightly, not squishing the baby in her arms.

"Well, right after you left I seemed to have found one?"

"And who is that?"

"None other than my Bors of course." There was a silence. "You mean he didn't tell you?"

"No! And I'm expecting this is his them?"

"Oh, yes. Number ten."

"Ten! Well, you have been busy haven't you?" They both laughed as Vanora eyed the young girl behind Rhyne. "Vanora, this is my daughter, Sparrow." They both nodded their greetings.

"Well, anyone will definitely know she is yours. Same eyes, same hair, same smile. Do you like children Sparrow?"

Sparrow smiled high at this question. She was the first person, besides mother, who ever thought of her as an adult. "Yes, I do."

"Good! Because there are plenty in this fort to watch after, especially my whole lot! Now," she said beginning to make her way out of the stables. Rhyne and Sparrow followed, with the wolf at their heels. "Arthur said you two need some rooms. You are staying for a while I hope?" She looked back hopefully.

"Actually we were thinking about making it a permanent move. I have been away from home far too long."

Vanora laughed with delight. "Wonderful! Then I will find you two spare rooms in the resident halls instead of the inn. And do not worry about paying for it. Arthur said it has already been taken care of."

Rhyne spoke in protest. "No, I will not have Arthur paying my way for anything. We can work for it."

"Oh, no dear. The Romans are far too scared of the Sarmatians to argue or worry about pay. Arthur told them you were a knight, and they simply nodded in agreement. Pay is not necessary."

Rhyne was shocked. _Arthur called me a knight?_ She thought on it for a few moments as she followed Vanora through the halls. They passed the tavern on the way. The loud shouts banished her from thought. She looked over and saw some of the knights already drunk in ecstasy. A few even yelled over to them, but their words were so slurred, nothing could be made out.

They made it to their rooms on the second floor, two right next to each other. "All the knights are around here, in one way or the other. Next to, below, or across the hall. There are bathes inside already waiting for you. We will see you in the tavern later." They kissed each other's cheeks and she walked back down the hall, singing merrily to the child in her arms.

Rhyne shut the door to her room and looked around. It was a good size. A bed, chest, small table with a single chair, and there was a small bathing room, with hot water already in the tub. She had very few belongings, so it would do nicely. Rhyne smiled warmly. And she noticed there was a simple blue gown lying on the bed. She laughed silently, _Vanora_. The wolf jumped on the bed and instantly sprawled down upon the pillows. "Hey! Who says you get the bed?" He looked up at her sadly. "Yeah, it is better than a tent isn't it. I will have to get you some padding and blankets to sleep on the floor." He looked up again. "I hope not to be sleeping alone. You remember the knight I always tell you and Sparrow about." He tilted his head. "The one with the tattoos," she said almost annoyingly and the wolf just laid his head back down and fell asleep.

The bath was relaxing. She hadn't had a true bath since her and Sparrow had started their journey. It took a while to scrub all the blood off her face and arms, until you could see the true tone of her skin, a dark amber tone. Most of her last fourteen years had been spent in the day light, and she was grateful, for it had helped hide all the scars of battle and her dark past.

When she was finished the water was red, but her skin was normal once more. She dried and slipped on the gown Vanora had given here, and looked in the mirror. It fit perfectly, except the bust was a little big. She took off the gown and unraveled the cloth she had always worn around her breasts, then put the gown back on again. They filled out the bust nicely. It had been well over ten years since she had worn a gown; it was nice to act feminine again. Except, it was partly sleeveless, and you could see both the tattoos on her arms. She shrugged her shoulders and starting working on her hair, when her daughter walked in. She also had a gown on, but it was white and had sleeves down to her elbows, then split and dangled down. Her skin was darkly tanned like her mother's, and the white made her face stand out with her sparkling emerald eyes and deep red hair. If they had worn the same color it would be like looking at a reflection.

"Mother, I need help doing my hair." She then noticed her mother was in a gown, and smiled. "You look beautiful. I have never seen you wear a gown before."

"The last time I did, you were not yet one year old." And she handed the comb to her daughter. She was looking at Sparrow in the mirror, putting various braids into her hair. "Do you like the knights?" she asked still looking at her reflection.

Sparrow smiled. "Yes." But then her cheeks turned a little red. Rhyne laughed a little, "Which one?" The red in her cheeks got darker, and she finished the braids in her hair as Sparrow now sat down for her hair to be done. "It's okay you know. I knew this would happen, you are at that age. I started to love someone long before fourteen. If there was anyone I would rather you love, it would be one of the knights. I would prefer someone younger, but I knew you would love them, as I do." Sparrow nodded understanding, but was silent.

When she finished her daughter's hair she rubbed rose oil into her arms and neck, then gave the small vile to her daughter and she did the same. She tossed the blankets over Hawk and he woke up startled, and scrambled from the bed. "It's time to go the tavern." They were about to leave when Sparrow spoke, "Lancelot." Rhyne turned and looked at her daughter, who was fidgeting her fingers innocently. "Of all the men in the world, you had to pick the most handsome and most womanizing of the lot." Rhyne just smirked at her. The wolf mumbled something and looked confused. Rhyne looked down at him. "She's smitten with Lancelot. You know, the one that made a bet with me earlier?" He lifted his as if remembering and shook his head at Sparrow. Her mother laughed. "He looks worried too." They stared at each other for a moment and Rhyne motioned her to sit next to her on the bed. Rhyne put one arm around her shoulders, and a hand in the other.

"What do you feel?"

Sparrow thought for a moment before she spoke. "He's handsome. He has a good laugh, and makes me smile. He is a fierce warrior, not that he enjoys killing, but he will rush into the battle to protect those he loves." The whole time, Rhyne was listening with a loving smile, and Sparrow went on. "But the thing I noticed most of all was his touch. When I put my hand on his to forgive myself for insulting him and I felt something. I trembled. There was a fire in our touch." She was silent again, as if replaying the moment in her head. "Does that make any sense?" She asked looking to her mother.

She sniggered slightly. "It makes perfect sense. That is what I felt when I feel in love for the first time. You can't breathe. You can't speak. You wake with the person on your mind and that is the last thing you think before you fall into dreams. And feeling that when you touch is a good sign, it means that you are connected, on some higher plain. And it also may mean that you met in a previous life, maybe even loved." Sparrow sat in her mother's arms taking in her wisdom.

She then laid her head on Rhyne's shoulder and she fingered her daughter's hair. "You just be careful with this one, Sparrow. Sometimes you must listen to reason over heart. Do not do anything you will regret. On the other hand, do not deny your heart the love it deserves. If love is there, between you two, rush out to get it. Love can sometimes be a battlefield, and with Lancelot, I think it might be. Okay." Sparrow nodded. "Good. Let's go celebrate then." And they made their way to the tavern.


	3. New Life and Old Memories

_**Disclaimer: Same as before…**_

_**BeautifulFirestone, Ms. Genova, Amirra, Emo-Kitty: Thanks for your reviews on chapter one…by the time I posted chapter two I had only known I had one review…sorry.**_

**_Lucillaq: Sparrow is not Tristan's daughter. That will make it too easy. More of a hint in this chapter to who it is._**

_**Keep Reviewing!**_

_**You guys will like this chapter…more memories…more jokes…and more tears.**_

Justice Will Rhyne

Chapter Three- New Life and Old Memories

The sun had finally set, and stars covered the world like blanket. Rhyne and Sparrow made their way to the outdoor tavern, with Hawk at their side. They could hear the shouts of drunkenness in the distance. Sparrow stopped abruptly and Rhyne turned to face her. "What?"

"I'm nervous," she admitted shyly.

"Of Lancelot?" Rhyne gave a little smile and wrapped an arm around her daughters shoulders as they started walking again. "Sparrow, listen. It is not like you have to go up to him right now and tell him how you feel. Give it a while. See how he act towards you. Besides, I don't think he will be in the right state tonight to talk about something as serious as that," and they turned the corner to enter the small courtyard that served as the tavern. The tables were filled with Romans and residents of the fort. However, they sat on the opposite side of the courtyard as the knights, who were all present.

Vanora spotted them first and trotted up with a huge smile on her face. "You both look wonderful. I'm glad to see those gowns fit you nicely. Would you like something to drink or eat?"

"Food would be wonderful, and will both have some wine, but she only gets one," Rhyne said pointing to the girl at her said. Vanora nodded and walked back over to the bar. Rhyne saw Galahad and Gawain over in one corner throwing knives at a stool, and they started making their way over there, but an arm was slung around Rhyne's waist and the man spoke in her ear behind her. "Hello Beauty! I have never seen you before. What's your name?" Lancelot asked it with a slur, clearly not recognizing her in a gown. She elbowed him in the ribs, then pulled his over her to flip him back first onto the ground. "Oh, Lancelot. How are you going to win our bet if you are like this?" she asked sarcastically, since she just made his state worse.

He looked at her through his pain. "Rhyne?" She nodded. "I never thought you were womanly enough to wear a gown?"

She laughed. "Well I am clearly not manly enough to have one of these now, I am?" as she nudged his crotch with her foot. "But wait. Sparrow so cleverly pointed out today that it took place of your brain. So, what gender would that make you?" She asked it playfully, and there was laughter around her as all the knights were curious to who could flip Lancelot in that manner. Rhyne nudged an elbow into Sparrow's arm. Lancelot would never live this one down.

Her mother walked away, leaving him in his misery Hawk stepped over him as he followed at Rhyne's heels. Sparrow helped him onto his feet. "I'm sorry. Mother can be quite cruel sometimes."

Lancelot answered without thinking. "Yeah. So can you." Sparrow got an ungrateful look on her face, which soon turned to anger. _Oh no_. She elbowed him in the chest hard, and then threw a foot in the back of his knee which made him clasp onto his back again. There was more laughter as Sparrow stalked off, leaving him there as her mother did.

Rhyne sat next to Galahad who had a barmaid on his lap, and Vanora sat a mug of wine in front of her with a plate of food. "He is right. I never thought I would see you in a gown. But you do look great!" Galahad whispered into her ear, and she elbowed him as well. She started to scruff down the food, very unlady-like, as Gawain plopped down on her other side. He pushed a few knives in front of her. Rhyne shook her head. "You're gonna need all the help you can get," she said with a full mouth of food. He just shrugged and got back to throwing.

Tristan was sitting in the corner, drinking his ale, looking on the table Rhyne sat at. He had not moved since she and her daughter arrived, but even he smirked at the incident with Lancelot. He loved her laugh. And her smile lit up any room she walked into. It was nice having a voice that could easily make even Lancelot look small, and then there was Sparrow. The spitting image of her mother, and just as cunning and vicious. It had been so long since she left, that he forgot how much it pained him that she did leave. That parting was even harder than leaving his family in Sarmatia…

"When are you leaving?" the young Tristan asked somberly.

"Tomorrow morning, with a Bishop." She was looking at the ground, and speaking no more than a whisper. "Tristan, I'm scared," and she looked at him beginning to cry. She never admitted her fear. In fact, he never known her to be scared in the half year they had known each other. He took her hand in his for comfort, and only for herself. As she started to cry harder he took her into his arms.

"It will be okay. I'm sure you will be back." She laid her head on his shoulder and cried for hours. When she had no tears left she finally spoke. "I am going to miss them all, but you most of all."

"Shh! You should get some rest," and he started to get up, but she took his hand.

"Please stay with me tonight. I can't be alone." He nodded, and they laid back with her in his arms, comforting her, but also himself. He even cried a few tears, but would not her see. She needed all the strength she could to endure what was to come.

They awoke in the morning and she had one hand clenched on his tunic, and the other lying on his chest. She had already packed the night before, with the little belongings they would allow her to take. With all his heart he willed the sun not to come up, but it shone through the window. All the knights metthem in the courtyard. She hugged each goodbye, but did not cry. She was strong, strong for her brothers.

Rhyne greeted Tristan last, and they hugged each other for what seemed like an eternity. "We will meet again, I promise you," she whispered in his ear. They finally parted. But before she stepped onto the wagon she kissed him, ever so lightly, showing her heart to him.

They all watched her go, and she did not break. Her will was strong. Whatever she was walking into she would stand a statue in the storm. He watched her fall past the horizon. He shed one last tear, one last time. He went silent that day. Not that he was the life of the party before, but he would speak normally, and show emotion. But she had stolen his heart. Unless she would return, no other heart would be one with his…

When his memory broke as Gawain called his name. "Tristan we're going to start the game." Tristan nodded. He, Galahad, and Gawain battled each other, but Tristan won, every time hitting the middle or the hilt of their daggers. Cheers erupted after each round, and ultimately when he won, but he always won. The cheers never died.

Lancelot came walking up standing before Rhyne, who us still eating. He seemed to have sobered up a bit for their match. He was standing straight and when he spoke his slur was gone. "Are you ready?" He asked with a grin.

"Whenever you are, but we are going in threes. Does the bet still stand?" she asked, slipping more bread into her mouth, and then she set the plate on the ground and Hawk scarffed up the rest of the food on top of it. He nodded. "Okay. You, Tristan and me." She looked over to Tristan who had walked back over to his corner. "You up for another round?" He nodded. "You sure you can handle me?" She asked jokingly. He just shrugged.

Rhyne sat up on the table as she watched to first two knights throw their knives. Lancelot got it directly in the middle, and there was a big cheer. Tristan, as always, hit the hilt, and there was even a greater roar. She took the third knife in her hand and stepped up to the line. There was a large crowd now, all the knights, the barmaids, some of the local villagers who lived in the fort. Besides the knights, no one had seen any of her handy work, except for the earlier scene with Lancelot. Taken almost no aim, she turned and threw her knife, and to everyone's surprise it hit the hilt of Tristan's. Everyone was astonished, but not nearly as much as the knights. The only cheers were from Sparrow, who was not surprised her mother had this skill.

"How do you do that?" Galahad asked in shock.

Rhyne sat back up on the table and pointed to the three knives sticking out from the stool. "I aim for the middle."

"That is what Tristan always says," Gawain said annoyingly, obviously not understanding how to attain the skill. There was finally a roar of excitement. Rhyne looked over to Tristan and he even gave her a nod of respect and accomplishment. Lancelot was looking quite worried and did not look her in the eye. The game went on, and Rhyne ultimately won, with Tristan just behind by one point, and Lancelot lost miserably.

"Well Lancelot, it seems that I win. And your bed will be empty for two weeks. Since I am a humble person I will allow touching, but no lip contact. You just didn't know what you were up against." The courtyard erupted in laughter as Lancelot looked as if someone had died. Hawk even jumped on Rhyne, knowing she had won. She pet him and then headed up to the bar.

Arthur leaned up to the bar next to her. "I think Lancelot has gotten his pride hurt more today than he has in the last fourteen year. There has never been anyone that would dare challenge his ego. But, he's had it coming." They laughed together, sitting against the bar on a pair of high stools.

"She is your spitting image. And she is just as malicious as you. Is there anything she attained from her father?" he asked gesturing towards Sparrow, who was apparently enjoying a story by Bors and Dagonet.

Rhyne shook her head. "She might as well be my twin. And thank the Goddess she is not like her father." As soon as she said the words she regretted it. She knew what was coming.

"Who is her father?" Rhyne did not answer, but only stared vaguely ahead. It was the question she always feared. She could not even tell her own daughter who her real father was. "Gawain told me how old she was?" He looked at her questionably.

She lied. She lied for the sake of her brothers. She told the same lie she told Sparrow. "He's dead." Arthur was about to ask another question when she spoke instead. "I have a very dark past, Arthur. Please do not ask me to tell it. You will know, in due time." They were silent for some time. She looked over to Tristan, who had escaped to the same corner he had been in when she arrived.

"What happened to him? He has not said a word to me today. Only nods and looks," She motioned to Tristan.

Arthur noticed who she was pointing to, and his face softened. "You did." Rhyne was taken aback. "When you left he changed. Became silent, closed off. He ceased to be the Tristan you knew, and is now the man to see today. A silent and passive warrior."

"Well, I guess that is one more thing we have in common," and she gave a slight smile to him.

"Don't worry. He's thinking of you. That hug you two shared today, that was more emotion he has showed since you left. I think once you two interact again, he will be close to what he once was," he said smiling.

With that she walked over across the tavern, and stood next to Tristan. He knew they had been talking about him. He was looking at her as she pointed to him, and them Arthur looked over. He had been watching her most of the night. And now, she was standing next to him. He had been wanting, and fearing this moment sense they returned to the fort. And her wolf was sitting right in front of his feet, staring at him. She smiled down at her companion. "I'm sure he won't mind, Little Brother." The wolf then put both paws onto Tristan's chest, greeting him. "He likes you," she said chuckling under her breathe. At first he did not know how to react, but he petted the creature, who then went and laid down on the other side of Rhyne. "You should feel lucky. He never warms up to strangers that quickly. It must be because I have told him about you before."

Tristan looked at her, with a passive face, but she knew he had been surprised to her words. "What! Do you not think I haven't thought about you at all these past fourteen years? After how we left off? I have thought about you a lot." Her voice got softer as she spoke.

He shifted his weight and looked down, uncomfortably. "I have too, of you."

Rhyne smiled shyly. "That's good to hear." She looked down at Hawk, who was fast asleep. "I saw your hawk today. When did you find her?"

"She found me."

"Hmm. Much like this one here," she said nodding her head down to the creature lying at her feet. "What is her name?"

He hesitated for a moment. He did not want her to think the hawk's name strange. However she did name the wolf… "Rhyne. Her name is Rhyne." She smiled brightly at this answer.

Their conversation was halted when Vanora walked over. "Can I get you another one my dear?" motioning towards the cup she held in her hand.

Rhyne shook her head. "I have had enough tonight. Sleep is what I need now."

"Good night dear," and she scuttled up to the next table.

"Well, I'm off to bed. I will see you in the morning. The sparring ring perhaps," she smiled mischievously. She started to make her way out of the tavern when she turned again. "Little Brother," and the wolf awoke from his slumber. "Make sure Sparrow gets to her room okay." With that order he went and sat next to the young woman. She pet him happily, and then went back to her conversation with Galahad.

Tristan watched as Rhyne left the courtyard. The conversation had not gone the way he wanted it to, but they spoke none the less. He would have to make more of an effort from now on. He was not going to lose her again.

* * *

The moon was high in the night sky. The cemetery shone silver from the light, and mist lightly covered the ground. Rhyne kneeled at the foot of her father's grave, which was now a mound of grass. Her hand lay across the grave, and her eyes were closed. "I miss you, father. And I always will. Give me strength for the coming storm, one that I must endure." She silent for a moment, as she began to cry. "I hope, you do not shame me for my past, when I was weak. But those wrongs will soon be righted, and those responsible will pay the price." She got angry as she spoke. All her thoughts that she wished to tell him for the past fourteen years were rolling through her head, but it would take ages for her to do so. 

It was a long while before she spoke again. "Your granddaughter is strong, stronger than me. I wish you could see her." She knew she spoke a lie, and knew that he could see her. He told her that he would never leave her. Rhyne knew her father was always with her. He was her voice of reason. "Arthur is a great leader father, and he will make a great King. But we are only beginning to walk into the storm, we have a long journey ahead of us. I hope that I have become what you wanted, and I hope I will make you proud."

She stood and looked over to the grave of Arthur's father. "Your son is a great commander. But in times like these, in the trials that lay before us, Britain needs something greater than a commander, we need a King. Arthur has the strength and heart to be a great King, but I fear he will not do so. You must direct him on the path you and I know he is meant for. You must show him Rome is not what is once was."

She left behind the old generation of the cemetery, and went on to see her past brothers. She had broken her promise to them. She had not returned fast enough before they pasted. Eighteen knights lay in the earth before her. Mordred. Alynore. Libeaus. Beunor. Hector. Kay. Pellens. Lamorak. Safer. Degore. Lyonell. Perceval. Lucan. Bedwere. Plomyd. Tayle. Blubrys. And what seemed most recent, Gareth. He was last in line of all her past brothers. Gawain's younger brother.

She had known he was killed. She had felt it, felt the sorrow of Gawain in her gut. And she had a dream, two years ago, just before he died. She had wanted to try and stop it, but there was nothing she could do. "I'm sorry my dear brother, I could not stop you from your fate." A few more tears fell down her cheeks.

She turned to look out onto the cemetery. She was at the topmost point, and could see all the graves of every Sarmatian that died for a cause not their own. It was a dead and dreary place, but Rhyne could feel the life beneath her. Their spirits still lived. "Your deaths, were not in vain." She spoke in a voice loud enough that you could hear echo through all the graves. "Your brothers may have forgotten you, left you on this island not realizing themselves that this place was now their home. But I will not. I will fight for the same cause that all you have. Freedom. Like my father before me. And may death take me if I fail in the task that lay before me." The cemetery was dead silent, but she could hear cheers inside her heart.

Rhyne walked out of the cemetery back to the fort, leaving her fallen comrades behind her, but not forgetting them, as all others did.

* * *

Authors Note: I know it is kind of slow and at tad bit short, but I had to get some of the other background things out of the way before I moved on. 


	4. Early Morning Screams

_**Disclaimer: same as before…**_

_**BeautifulFirestone: I like keeping people on the edge. You will out more about her past (and Sparrow's father) in this chapter, but there is still mystery. **_

_**Am I moving too fast with Tristan and Rhyne? And what do you think about Sparrow liking Lancelot?**_

Justice Will Rhyne

Chapter Four- Early Morning Screams

Rhyne walked up the stairs in the Resident Halls and saw Hawk lying in front of the door of her room. His head shot up when she got there. "Is she in her room?" He mumbled something in reply. She knew it meant yes. He nudged her hand and tilted his head to her; she knew what it meant. "I went to the cemetery to see my father." He acknowledged the answer. When she opened the door she sighed, "You can sleep on the bed with me tonight." He was once again on the bed in an instant and fell asleep in a few moments.

Rhynestarted to up pack her things, which was not much, and put them into the large chest at the foot on her bed. She had a few sleeveless tunics, and a few that went just passed her elbows. And a few pair of trousers. No gowns, only the one she had one. She would have to remember to ask Vanora if there was a seamstress in the village. The water was still in the tub. Trying to avoid sleep she decided to try and clean off the blood on her armor. It was not true battle armor. It was light, for long-distance riding. She would need to get some true battle armor made for her.

She then washed her sword, the main one she used. Titan. It wasof Sarmatain style, and designed like the one her father trained her with when she was young. She specificallyexplained the design to a British blacksmith, and he made it for her. It was light. Longer than a Roman sword, and had a thinner width, but just as strong, if not stronger. It had a slight curve to it, and was deadly sharp. A stranger to the sword would think it frail because it was small and long. She had remembered the sword Tristan carried. Very much alike, but his was longer and had a wider base. Hers was made for a young girl to wield. There was Celtic knots engraved down the blade, showing her British heritage, from her mother. And the hilt was shaped into a long snake-like dragon. The creature representing her father's people. She then remembered the armor he wore, bearing the same dragon.

Rhyne smiled at this memory, and then she moved to her other weapons. Her other sword, Draco, was typically Roman, except for the engraved dragon that went down the entire length of the blade. And then there was the dagger the head of the British family she lived with for fourteen years gave her when she and Sparrow left to come here. It was of British style and had a few inch base. It was a good dagger, and already saved her life once when her sword was knocked out of her hand. Then she looked over her bow, making sure it needed no repairs. Her father had showed her how to make a bow, and arrows as well. This one she had made herself, her first weapon after she ran away into the woods. Her boots were very worn, she would need some new ones soon. She took out the small knives that sat behind each heel. They were not damaged.

She set her armor and weaponry in the chest as well, except for the dagger, which she slipped under her pillow. She wore just a tunic to sleep in and then slipped underneath the fur covers. She fell into what would be a restless sleep…

* * *

She woke with a headache, and she could see nothing but blurs, and could taste blood in her mouth. There was a horrible stench in the air. She was lying on what seemed like dirt. She could see a few blurred candle flames a ways away, and a voice. A man's voice. It seemed like he was saying a prayer. Her vision cleared slowly, and realized that there were bars on the small doorway.

She was in a small and dark room. The walls were piled rock. She walked crawled over to the bars, and shook. They didn't budge. She felt outside the bars, and found a chain and lock that held the bars still. The man the she now recognized as a Christian priest was pacing the room, praying. She spoke to him, "Hey." No answer. "Hey," this time louder, and still no answer. She finally yelled, "HEY!" And she grimaced in pained as her scream hurt her head, which was still throbbing.

She leaned her head against the bars, and stared blankly, not knowing what to do. It was then that she saw the others, all over the room. There were some chained to walls, with arms stretched above their heads, and others lying in cages like hers. But she realized, they were not other people, but bodies. They might as well be bones. She looked on them in horror. Panic started to take her, but out of habit she pushed it back. _Panic blinds you from the truth. _She kept telling herself that, over and over in her head. It was something her father said, during the beginning of her training. _Once you control panic, you control your fate._ It was one of the first things he taught her.

She looked around her cell for anything that can be used as a weapon. She found two loose rocks, each good enough to fit in her hand. She took a shoestring from one of her high-legged boots and tied one of the rocks to her leg just above the inside of her knee underneath the gown she wore. Then she took the other rock and reached outsidethe celland proceeded to hit the lock as hard as she could. She heard someone telling her to stop, but she ignored them. Eventually the rock was taken from her. She was not sure how much damage she had done, if she did any damage at all. She then laid on her back and with all her force started kick with both feet at the bars.

She continued until her feet were bruised. It was no use. The only way she would get out is if the bar door was opened. She threw her boots at the wall in anger. She fell asleep from exhaustion.

She awoke by the sound of the bar door dropping open, and a hand reached out at her. She recoiled instantly and struggled against his grip. Her Owner. She was fighting him. She reached down for the rock, pulled it off her leg, and struck the side of his head. He was knocked out cold. She turned to run out, but found a sword at her neck instead. One of his guards. She reacted quickly hitting the sword hard to the left with the rock in her hand. That was the second thing her father taught her. _Defense before Offense_. As the rock came in contact with the sword it dug into her skin on the left side of her neck. She could not do much else, because he punched her, and she was taken by blackness once more.

She was slapped awake again by the sting of cold. Ice cold water was thrown on her. Once her senses were normal she saw her owner outside the bar door. "If I will not get you to listen, others will pay the consequences for you," he said venomously. He moved aside and a young boy was chained to a table lying on his stomach. "CONNER!" She rushed to the bars and reached out her hand to him. He was only a few feet away. He looked delirious, not knowing where he was.

She saw her owner pick up a whip with metal clips at the end, smiling like a devil. "Please don't, please. I will do what you say just don't hurt him. Please!" He did not answer, but lifted the whip above his head and brought down the whip on his back. She screamed…

* * *

Rhyne shot up screaming. There were tears rolling down her face and sweat all over her body. She reachedup to her neck and felt the scar on the left side of her neck. She was breathing hard. "CONNER!" She let out one more scream and the door flew open. Sparrow ran to her. "Mother! Mother, it's okay. It was only a nightmare." Sparrow threw her arms around Rhyne and held her tight. She was hysterical, saying things Sparrow did not understand, but she knew them.

Rhyne always had nightmares, and she always woke up screaming. It was either saying sorry to Conner, asking her father to forgive her, or screaming to get off her. Sparrow never knew what they meant, or who they were talking about, but she knew it was part of her mother's past that was hidden deep inside her. Things she never told anyone.

She was rocking back and forth now. "I'm sorry Conner, I'm so sorry." There was more tears. Hawk now was sitting on the other side of Rhyne snuggling against her cheek. He was used to her early morning screams as well. The door opened again, it was Tristan. And Lancelot was behind him. They looked on the scene, and rushed to Sparrow's side.

"What is it? What's wrong?" Lancelot asked frantically, kneeling beside the bed. He was shirtless, and pants were still not tied, and had no shoes. Tristan sat in front of Rhyne. "What's happening to her?" Tristan asked less frantically, but Sparrow could see the worry in his eyes. He was disheveled as well, but got one step further than Lancelot with his tunic on.

Rhyne was still in her trance, noticing none of them. "Her nightmares. She has had them since I can remember. I don't know what haunts her like this. She has never told me. She just says that she has had a dark past." Gawain and Galahad ran in.

"What is it?" They almost asked in unison.

Lancelot looked to both of them with a look of both compassion and anger. "She has nightmares."

"Of what?" Galahad asked bewildered. "Something from her past," Sparrow explained.

Lancelot pushed the hair out of Rhyne's face. He put a hand on her cheek. "Rhyne. Rhyne, can you hear me? Rhyne, its Lancelot. Can you hear me?" Gawain and Galahad were now sitting on the edge of the bed.

Sparrow shook her head. "That doesn't work. I have tried calling her back. She comes out in her own time." Hawk, who was still sitting there, nudged Tristan's hand. He looked at the wolf. Hawk looked at Rhyne then back at him and mumbled something. Sparrow saw the exchange. "He wants you to try." Sparrow looked at Tristan with Rhyne still in her arms rocking back and forth. "He wants you to try and speak to her."

Tristan inched forward. Arthur was in the room now, followed by Bors and Dagonet. Galahad told him what was happening. Light was just beginning to show in the sky. "Rhyne, can you hear me?" Tristan asked it softly. There was no reaction. He picked up her chin to look into her eyes. "Rhyne. It's Tristan. Can you hear me?" There was no answer again. "A sword Rhyne. What happens when a sword is in your hand?" She stopped rocking but she looked down again. Her hands went to her head, and her face was almost in pain.There was a battle going on inside her."Justice…will…Reign." It came out softly and slowly, but once she finished she lifted her head and saw all the knights sitting around her. She could not stop her emotions.

The tears came again. Arthur was kneeling down in front of her. "I'm sorry Arthur. I'm sorry I was weak. I couldn't stop him. Conner is dead. He is dead because of me!" He took her in his arms. Rhyne clenched his shirt and sobbed wildly as she had done in her trance. Arthur was trying to calm her, as all the rest looked on in sadness. Sparrow was used to it, but was amazed Tristan had brought her back. There was a connection between him and her mother, she could see it. _She doesn't just hear him here, but hears him in her soul._ They all sat there, until her crying calmed, and then Sparrow lead them all out of the room. "She will be fine by midday, but will not have her usual spirit about her. It will be like that maybe until tomorrow or the next day. So don't aggravate her, or she will be worse." Before she closed the door Sparrow grabbed Tristan's wrist. "Thank you. I don't how she came back, and I don't how Hawk knew to ask you, but thank you." He nodded to her and went back to his room, which was right next door.

Sparrow slept next to her mother the rest of the night, with Hawk lying at their feet. It was past noon before Rhyne woke again. She had a horrible headache, and her stomach was calling out for food. She saw some food sitting on the small desk in the room, and started eating it. She took one of the chunks of bread and gave it to Hawk. He took it in his mouth but did not look away from Rhyne. "I'll be fine, I promise you." He was content with that answer and began chewing on the bread.

She could barely remember anything from the night before. Rhyne knew she had her nightmare, knew Sparrow came in, and a few of the knights as well, but that was it. It was normal. She rarely ever remembered what happened after her nightmare.

Rhyne's thoughts went instantly to Conner. "I'm so sorry, Conner. I am to blame for your death. I'm sorry I couldn't help you." She walked over to her window, which looked over the training fields and the stables. It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining, and the air was not horribly humid. She saw some of the knights sparring with each other, and a few on their horses in the ring. Rhyne looked for Tristan. He was sitting on a table against the walls of the stables. He was sharpening his sword. He must have felt her gaze because he looked up to her window. They stared at each other with no emotion. The spell was not broken until Sparrow walked into Rhyne's room, and she looked at her daughter.

"How are you feeling?" Rhyne looked back out the window, and Tristan was sharpening his blade once more.

"Fine. I'm fine." Sparrow did not believe her. They just stared at each other a moment. "I promised them I would spar today," and she opened her trunk to pull to put some practice clothes on, and got out her weapons.

"I don't think that is a good idea, mother. You know how you are the day after you nightmares," she said it with a very concerned tone.

"I know, but I am home now. Just that is already helping. I am back where I belong, and I belong next to them," she motioned out the window where the knights were practicing. She picked up only Titan and her bow, and then headed out the door, with Hawk, as always, on her heels.

* * *

Tristan was the first to see her walking out to the training area. Dagonet saw him freeze like a predator waiting for his prey. "Tristan, are you okay?" But he didn't answer. Dagonet then looked in the direction he was looking and froze as well. When Bors saw this he looked too. "What the bloody hell is she doing out of her room!" All knights heard him and saw what he was screaming about. They all froze, not expecting to see Rhyne out of her room for a while, after what they saw this morning.

She walked up and saw all their faces. They were about to speak when she stopped them. "NO!" Rhyne knew what questions were coming. "Yes, I have nightmares. No, you don't have to worry. I have had them for fourteen years now. No, I don't know how to stop them. No, I am not going to tell you what they are about. No, I still don't know why I have them. Yes, I have learned to deal with them, and they are less frequent than they used to be. No, I don't remember anything about waking up. And no, I don't need anymore rest. Does that answer your questions?" They all thought for a moment, and eventually nodded. "Good. So who's first?" she asked playfullyholding up Titan.

Rhyne sparred with them for a few hours, and then Sparrow came walking on to the field in a workout tunic and trousers like her mother. There was a strap that went over her left shoulder that held sheaths at her back of two swords. Lancelot was leaning on the ring fence next to Rhyne when he saw Sparrow walk up. "She carries a back up sword like you," he said noticing the two swords.

"She good with one sword, but when the head of the family we stayed with realized she was light and quick he made her two shorter British swords. You will be amazed with how fast she has excelled with them. It's to the point where she can almost kill me. Once she gets final instruction from you, she will be as deadly as you are."

Lancelot couldn't believe it. "A British man knew how to use two swords. Then why are there no Woads who fight that way?"

"He did not train the Woads, they live and train on their own. He was just a simple merchant who was gifted with the logic of war, like his father, who taught him. He only chose not use that skill. He wanted peace."

"So why did he train you and Sparrow?" Lancelot was very confused now.

"His brother was killed." Rhyne paused for a moment. "By Romans. Sparrow was then of age to start training. And I was ready to defend myself again. It took seven years, but I was ready." Sparrow was now busy getting teased by the other knights. "Having that sword back in my hand brought back the person I once was. And he finished my training. And hers is almost complete."

Lancelot was more somber than Rhyne. "I'm sorry." She just looked at him. "I don't know why you have those nightmares, and I know it must have been hard, but…I am glad you came back to us." She smiled than punched him in the shoulder, trying to get into a better mood. Then hechanged back into the Lancelot everybody knew. "So, let's see what your daughter's got."

He jumped into the ring and took his swords in hand. "Sparrow! Let's see what you got!" She got into the ring and pulled her swords. All the knights were gathering to watch, along with Arthur. If Rhyne was as deadly as she is, then how was Sparrow? "I promise I won't be too tough on you," Lancelot gave a cocky smirk.

Sparrow said nothing, just readied herself against him. She turned from a sweet young woman he knew she was, into a malicious fighter, but not a warrior yet. She attacked him first. He was not ready for her speed. Sparrow got in between his swords and pushed them outwards while bringing her foot to his chest knocking him onto his back. "You must like being on your back." Their spectators were laughing.

"Lancelot, when I said she was quick, I really meant it," she managed to get out while laughing.

"I think you really met your match, Lancelot. You are no longer the biggest mouth and quickest sword," Arthur said while chuckling.

Lancelot stood and brushed the dirt off him. He was not angry, but he showed a level of readiness this time. They sparred well against each other. Although Lancelot did have higher skill, she had the potential to be just as deadly. Lancelot and the other knights yelled words of encouragement to her.

Almost two hours later they could see her fatigue, and so could Lancelot, who was tired as well, but his body had been through many battles, and it didn't know how to stop. He took advantage of this. On her next attack he forced Sparrow to turn her back on him and he put his arms around her to pulled her back tight to his chest. Sparrow struggled, but could not over power Lancelot's strength. "Never let your enemy see your fatigue, or he can take advantage of it," he said into her ear.

She cracked a smile. "Don't you mean so **_you_** can take advantage of it." He got a flirtatious grin on his face. Sparrow then stomped hard on his foot, and his strength around her weakened as he cried out a yelp. Then she elbowed his ribs that were sore from last night. She turned out of his grip and put a sword tip at his neck. "Never let your guard down, for then you lose control of your fate." There were cheers from the outside of the ring.

"You vixen." It was all Lancelot could say, but it was good natured. Arthur was right; he had met his match, in everyway. There was something about this girl that made him go crazy and let his guard down.

Over the next week that was all they did. Spar all day and drink all night. Rhyne asked Arthur if there was something she and Sparrow could do for work, so he put them to work in the stables for a good pay. Because of the bet Rhyne won, Lancelot could not interact with any women sohe spent most of the time with Sparrow, finishing her training. The two weeks were almost up and Rhyne was grooming Zyfer in the stables when Lancelot and Sparrow walked in. They were in riding clothes and armed with their weapons. "Where are you guys off to?" Rhyne asked as they started saddling their horses.

"We're going for a ride. Practice fighting on horseback," Lancelot said.

"Alright. But I just cleaned this place up, so don't go making a mess when you get back or you will have to deal with me," she threatened playfully.

"Nag, nag, nag. Is that all know how to do sister?" Lancelot replied grinning. Rhyne threw the brush at him in protest.

Tristan walked in as they left. Rhyne had turned back to her horse and did not see him enter. She started speaking to Zyfer, in the Briton language. She finally heard Tristan's footsteps and gave him a smile in greeting. Hawk on the other hand walked up to him and set two paws on his chest. Tristan pet the creature happily. It had become a normal thing now. The wolf really had a liking to him. "It's strange. He has never greeted anyone like that except for me and Sparrow. There is something about you that he really likes." He just smiled, something that he was showing more often since Rhyne's arrival. They talk regularly now, and each conversation gets longer. But he is still quiet. Their friendship was slowly progressing to what it once was.

"You speak as the Woads do," he observed.

"Well, when you live with a British family for fourteen years it tends to rub of on you." She said it sarcastically but it was the truth. Tristandropped the subject.

"There is a lot of tension between those two," he said walking over to his grey stallion. The horse nudged him lovingly.

Rhyne knew whathe was talking about. "They have a good relationship. The challenge that goes back and forth is good for them." She looked at him underneath the neck of Zyfer. "Should I allow it to go further than that?"

He thought for a moment, but didn't look at her. Rhyne could see him contemplating the question. "There is something about that girl that makes Lancelot care for her. He is very protective. I have seen them in the tavern. He always sits next to her, eyes her when she is not by him, makes other men who look at her leave her alone. I haven't even seen him look at another woman since the first day you two were here."

"Good observations," she said smiling. But he still didn't look at her. "Somehow she has put a leash on his want for every woman he sees. She has the power to tame him. But the real test will be once our bet is over. That is the one thing I can not figure out."

"Whether he looks at her because of the bet, or if he really cares?" Tristan finished for her.

Rhyne just smiled. They were silent as she finished grooming Zyfer, and she put all the supplies away. The she started to braid his mane into various different sizes and styles. She attached beads as she went. She finally broke the silence. "Thank you," Rhyne said looking over to Tristan.

He stopped brushing down his stallion and looked at her with his passive face. "For what?"

Her tone softened. "For bringing back the night I had my nightmares."

"I thought you said you didn't remember." In still the same calm tone he always had.

"I lied." They just stared at each other for a moment. "I heard you calling my name. When I am in that trance, I am buried deep inside my soul. I see nothing and hear no one, not even my self. But I heard you. That is the only reason I came back that quickly, because it was your voice." Rhyne did not notice she was walking towards him. "We are connected you and I, on a higher plain that travels through our souls. That is the only reason I heard you." She stopped and few feet away from him. Neither of them moved, but just stood their, staring into each other's souls. He started to walk towards her but Jols walked into the stables.

"Tristan. Arthur wants all the knights to meet at the Round Table. There is a new mission. He has also requested your presence Rhyne." They both gave Jols a nod and started to exit the stables.

"Have either of you seen Lancelot?" Jols called after them.

"He and Sparrow are on a ride. They should be back shortly," Rhyne told him before they exited.

* * *

Yea. This chapter took me forever to write, but the next two will be quick. They are already drafted in my head. Are those nightmares weakness enough? 


	5. Heritage

_**Disclaimer: same as before…**_

**_Massagentae is a real Sarmatian Tribe, near the east._**

Justice Will Rhyne

Chapter Five-Heritage

Sparrow and Lancelot were done with their workout and started to head back to the fort. Lancelot asked a question he knew Sparrow probably couldn't answer. "Do you know who your father is?"

Sparrow was caught a little off guard by the question. "Mother only told me that he died, and that's all she would ever say."

"Do you really want to know?"

"Yes, and no. I never knew him, and probably never will if he still lives. And mother tells me every attribute I have I get from her. The only reason I want to know is for the sake of knowing, but other than that it would not matter."

They were silent for a while. Lancelot could not figure out why he was so drawn to her. He always wanted to sit next to her, talk to her, spar with her. There have been many times when he had to fight off the urge to kiss her, especially when they were alone, like now. Instead of dwelling on it he punched Sparrow's shoulder and grinned at her playfully. She punched him back, a little harder, and then he hit her again, even harder.

They kept hitting each other until they started bickering. "What are you, a child!" Sparrow spat while she threw another punch.

"You are the one who hit me back!" he laughed. She slipped one of her feet out of the saddle and leaned to punch him again, but she leaned a little too far and began to fall to the ground. Lancelot looped his arm around her waist and pulled her up in front of him on his horse. She punched him in the chest. "Hey, I just saved you!"

"Yeah, but I was trying to punch you before you saved me, so it counts." They laughed for a few minutes, but then realized how close they were. She was leaning on his arm that was holding the reins, and the other was around her waist holding her on the horse. Her legs were hanging off one side. It was the closest they have been since the first time they sparred each other. He could no longer ignore the urge. He leaned in slowly and kissed her, softly. He backed out of the kiss and saw Sparrow was shocked. "I'm sorry," he said looking away. But she put a hand on his cheek and pulled his eyes back to her. They looked at each other for a moment, then she leaned up and kissed him. It deepened as he pulled her tighter against him. She put an arm around his neck as it became passionate.

When they pulled back from each other they both were breathing hard. "You feel it, don't you?" he asked in a whisper.

"The fire. Yes. Yes I feel it." They stayed like that for a moment, and then Sparrow popped her up. "Your bet! I doesn't end until tomorrow."

He grinned. "Don't tell anyone." She punched him again.

* * *

They got back to the fort a little while after and Jols told them to report to the Round Table immediately. All the knights were there, along with Rhyne who sat next to Tristan. Lancelot nodded his apologies for being late and took his seat. Sparrow sat next to him. Arthur began.

"Knights, we have received a new mission from Deva." He looked very somber. Rhyne saw his hesitation. "A few weeks back some Roman auxiliary discovered a single Saxon ship on the eastern shores of the island just above the Wall. They sent a small force above the Wall to extract them, but they never returned." Sparrow stopped breathing. Lancelot took her hand underneath the table.

The room was silent now. Fighting the Woads was one thing, but Saxons were not human. Their barbaric ways seemed almost alien to the human race. This would be a dangerous mission, no matter what the task included. Some may die. Rhyne saw Arthur's sadness. She knew he hated being a commander, but there was no one else who would lead these men. He led not because he chose to, but because he had to.

"Our orders are to go, kill what is left of the enemy, and find the reason for there presence."

"Is their reason not obvious enough?" Rhyne burst out. "It is a small scouting party trying to find the best place for an entire fleet to begin an invasion. They have been doing it for years now. I have personally been there, and killed them myself before they could escape back to Germania."

"But not with enough certainty. It could be the beginning of an invasion for all we know. That is why we must go-"

"That is death being handed to you Arthur, you see that," she cut him off. Rhyne spoke in anger now. "The Governor just lost some of the best Rome has to offer on this island, and now he sends you. Because these knights are what is expendable. There is always more where they came from."

"The Governor is no arrogant fool, Rhyne. He sends us because we are the best Rome has to offer." He was standing now, ready for Rhyne's opposition.

It didn't faze her. "Yes, you may be the best Rome has to offer, but that is not why he sends you, Arthur." She stood now. "Do you not remember how my father died? The type of mission he was sent on. It was a death mission against the Saxons, much like the one you are being handed now. Yet you fail to recognize the same gesture. You and your knights are expendable, just like my father and yours."

Rhyne had pushed his last button. He hit the table with his fist and spoke, "Silence! I am the commander of this table Rhyne, not you!"

She was still defiant against the power of his position. No one stood over her. She had been rewarded freedom against authority for all her suffering. She was a statue in the wind. Rhyne spoke calmly against his rage. "Rome has already taken my father away from me. I will not let them take my brothers as well." With that, she walked out of the room.

All the knights, even Arthur was surprised at her defiance. "I'm sorry Arthur." Sparrow spoke up through the uncomfortable silence. "She has lived free for too long. She refuses to live by another's stead." Sparrow's grip on Lancelot's had grew steadily tighter as the argument went on. He was no stroking her skin softly to calm her down.

"I wish more of us had that courage. But let us hope that one, we won't need it. We all should be that free." He sighed. "We leave at first light. We will head west along the Wall, then go above when he hit the beach." Arthur excused himself.

Sparrow ran after him down the hall. "Arthur!" He turned at the calling of his name. "I would like to accompany you on this quest."

"If it were any other I would say yes, but fighting the Saxons and being north of the Wall is a different story. I grant you that you have the ability, but I would fear too much for your safety, so it must be no."

"But you just said it yourself I have the skill, and am improving more each day!" she yelled in protest.

"Your mother wouldn't allow it, and neither am I. Do not fight with me about this. You will be locked in your room if need be with a 24 hour guard. You may goon a different mission, one not as dangerous." The conversation was over. Arthur walked away. Sparrow was defiant like her mother, but only to a point. Rhyne will never stand down to what she thinks is right. Sparrow is not that free.

* * *

When Rhyne left the Round Table she walked straight up to the battlements. She had found peace there the past two weeks, when she was thinking of her training, her task, or her past. Rhyne was looking out into the untamed forests of the North. She was thinking on what should be done. She was frustrated. She saw a large rock on the floor. She picked it up and threw it out over the wall as far as she could, and then she leaned up against the edge. "Merlin, this is harder than I thought it would be. How can I convince them?" Hawk looked up at her when she said the name.

Then, as of Merlin heard her frustration he answered. "Be strong child. If there is anyone that can convince Arthur, it's you. You have everything you require. Remember, I have faith in you, even if you do not." Then he was gone; she no longer felt his presence with her.

It was then that Arthur walked up to her. "It is not safe to have your back to the forest. There could be enemies at any time."

Rhyne was a bit startled by his voice, just coming out of the trance. "There is no one out there. I can feel the trees, and there is no evil among them." They were silent for a moment. Trying to think of where to start. Rhyne spoke first. "If you came to get an apology, you will fail. I stand firm to what I said in there."

"I came for no apology. Mostly because everything you said in there was probably the truth."

"Then why do it. Why go onmissions like this one? Why take orders from an Emperor that is thousands ofmiles away and has never step foot one this Island?" She had a raised voice again.

"Because it is my duty, and the duty of the knights. It is the only way we will get our freedom, which is not far away. Within a year they will be back in Sarmatia and I in Rome."

"Rome. You have never even been there and you long to be. Rome is the reason there is so much blood on this land. How has this Island ever been of importance to Rome? It only causes war. The Native Tribes of this land are too strong and honorable to give in. They will fight until there is no one left to fight. Your 'duty' is of no reward. Rome is being attacked from every corner of the world, and the Saxon has now come. And when Rome leaves, and you have your discharge papers, what was it all for? Will those fifteen years mean anything, except death?"

"I followed in my father's footsteps, and led the best men I will ever know. That is enough for me."

"Maybe it is not enough for Britain. This is your home too. You were raised on this land, not Rome. You call a place you have never been 'home'. What is there for you in Rome besides wealth and nobility? Everyone you have ever loved and cared about is here. These are your people too." She pointed out to the north. "Yet you refuse to see your British heritage and call yourself a Roman! You have always been more of a Briton than a Roman."

"You want me to turn my back on half of my heritage and fight against Rome. I would be signing my own death. And I will never do it!"

"I am not asking you to turn your back, but to embrace who you are. And that is a leader both Roman and Briton. You are not alone, Arthur. And one day you will see that, and learn the truth of your beloved Rome."

Arthur sighed. He would not win this fight. "I did not come up here to argue with you further."

"Then what is it that you want." Rhyne was still in a state of frustration.

"I want you to accompany us on this mission. I could use all the hands I can get. But since I know you will say yes, promise me one thing."

"And what is that," she was calming down now.

"Do not lecture me of my duty and I will not ask you of your past." He knew she would not object the compromise. But it a few moments for her to answer. Arthur knew this subject meant a lot to her, and may be the reason why she came back.

"Fine, I will join you. But not my daughter."

"I already told her no."

"Good."

Neither of them moved nor spoke. It was another uncomfortable silence. There was so much to say to one another, but it was not the right time. "There is something I want to show you. Come." She followed. They went into his quarters. There was a table with a linen over the top, and she could tell there were things underneath.

"What is that?" Rhyne asked. _What did he possibly need to hide from me?_

"This is what I wanted to show you." He said it with a big smile, Rhyne got the feeling that somehow he was proud of himself. "Since you agreed to come with us, I thought you'd be needing this." He uncovered one side of the table. It unveiled a set of armor. It was black, and sleeveless, not going below the top of the shoulder. There are two sets of everything. One of mostly leather and some iron for long riding. And the other was thicker and heavier for major battles. Two shoulder coverings that went no lower on the arm than the top of the shoulder. Two skirts, and two shin coverings as well. But there was only one breastplate, and this is what caught her eye. There was a white dragon that covered the chest, the same type of dragon on her father's breastplate.

Rhyne looked at Arthur in shock. "It was your father's. When you arrived I knew I had seen it in our armory somewhere. All the armor our knights are not buried in is put there. It took me three days to find it. I then took it to the British Craftsman in the fort and had it redesigned for you. I had it matched to your other armor. It is not all your father's, but most of it is. This armor symbolizes bothyour Sarmatian and British heritage."

Rhyne picked up the breastplate, which had a backplate as well. It was not much heavier than her older armor. It was formed in at the waist and formed to give her room at the bust. She set it down and looked at the rest of the armor. There was a pair of forearm coverings. It was made of iron covered in a layer of leather. But what was amazing about them was on the side that pointed away from her body, there was a blade on each. It was as if he cut off half of an 8-inch dagger, long ways, and attached it to the outside of her arms. Arthur saw her eyeing them.

"I noticed you like using your arms a lot when sparring. Elbowing, punching. I thought those would be fun." She smiled at him, not able to say anything yet because she is so shocked. "And I also found some other personal items of his," and he uncovered the other half of the table uncovering more of a shock. The first thing she noticed was the dagger her father always carried. It was a 6-inch straight blade. It's small sheath had etchings in the leather. It was the same symbol which was on her talisman. It was a very special blade and only one of its kind. "Dragon of the Massagentae". The hilt was a dragon, and the blade carried its name in the language of his people.

There were also a few books. Books that her father read to her in her youth. _The Iliad_, about the two greatest warriors that ever lived. _Meditations_ of Marcus Aurelius, one of the few Romans she admired. And the story of the Iceni Queen Boudicca, which was written by one of her own Iceni warriors. It was given to him as a gift from a Iceni village he saved from the Saxons. Rhyne admired Boudicca. If there was ever a person she wanted to be like, besides her father, it was her. The last item was an armband. It did not belong to her father, but to her mother. It was gold and shaped into a dragon.

She set the last item down and looked to Arthur. He was looking on with a smile. Rhyne stood there and opened her mouth to say something, but closed it again. Instead she just hugged him. "Thank you, Arthur. You have no idea what this means to me." She even shed a few tears. He backed out of the hug and wiped her tears.

"Come. I have a feeling the men will be in the tavern the rest of the day. I will have Jols bring these things to your room tonight. She hugged him one more time and they headed for the tavern.

* * *

Sorry this chapter is short, but i have a feeling the next will be really long, so I had to get the idea of thier heritage out in one chapter by itself.


	6. Raining Hearts

Justice Will Rhyne

Chapter Six-Raining Hearts

All the knights were, as Arthur predicted, at the tavern. The sun had just begun to go down as the clouds started to gather. "Looks like it's gonna rain," Rhyne said observing the darkening sky.

"It always looks like it's gonna rain," Gawain said to her as she walked by. He had a cup in his hand and a barmaid on his lap, watching Galahad throw knives at a stool.

She plopped into a chair next to Tristan. Rhyne eyed his plate of food. As if she had known him all her life she grabbed a piece of bread from his plate and bit into it. Tristan looked at her as she chewed. Rhyne noticed him. She cracked at little smile while chewing and she winked. He didn't take his eyes away from her as he pulled out his dagger. Rhyne stopped chewing and looked at him with a raised brow. He paused for a few seconds, then stabbed the bread on Lancelot's plate and took a bite out of it.

"Hey! Tristan!" Lancelot roared. Tristan just gave him his usual passive face, and then turned back to his own plate. Rhyne saw his smile while he did so. Lancelot went to grab the bread from Sparrow's plate but she grabbed before he could. She shook her head while taking a bite. He grumbled and looked back to his plate. Humbly Sparrow tore off half of hers and gave it to Lancelot. He took it from her smiling then kissed her cheek. She thumped his arm in exchange.

Rhyne saw the scene and inwardly laughed. He was so protective of her. Rhyne looked under the table and saw they were holding hands. She smiled as a mug was set in front of her. _Something happened on their ride today_.

Rhyne spent most the night watching her fellow brothers, instead of talking like she normally does. She would answer when spoken too, but only short and quickly. For the first time she saw the world the way Tristan does. You can learn a lot just listening. Bors talked most about his children. He loved them more than he would admit. Dagonet was mostly silent, listening to Bors, answering when need be. Gawain had a barmaid on his lap most of the night, spending the whole time at the knife line, same with Galahad. They were inseparable those two, joined at the hip.

Lancelot eventually moved over to the gambling table ad Sparrow went over to watch Gawain and Galahad. He would look over to her every once and while, and when they caught each other's eye he would wink to her. Rhyne spent most of the night watching him, and surprisingly, the only woman he looked at with that glint in his eye was Sparrow. He rarely even noticed the barmaids who tried to get his attention. They all seemed neglected by their favorite knight.

Galahad slumped next to Sparrow because he was losing to Gawain so horribly. He slyly put his arm around her. She felt his hand on her shoulder and picked it up. "Just because you're losing, doesn't mean I'll take pity on you." And she dropped his hand in his own lap.

"You don't seem to mind when Lancelot does." There were woos from the crowd.

Sparrow was about to speak when a voice came from behind her. "That is because of my devilish charm." Lancelot had obviously heard from the gambling table and walked over. He put his arm around her and pulled her closer to him. There were whistles around them.

"No, actually it's because of my devilish charm," she shot back at him. Laughter filled the tavern. He kissed her forehead and she thumped again in the chest.

Rhyne shook her head and smiled. _You go girl_. "Hey Rhyne!" Bors called out. "There's a lot tension between them. Have you got anything to say about that?" Bors raised his brow in question. They weren't ready for her response.

"I would say she needs to tighten that leash on him a little bit more, then she'll have him tamed." She took a drink. "All the women of my family are known for taming the wild ones. My mother did it to my father. Sparrow is doing it to him. But for me, I think it's gonna be the other way around. The silent Hawk here is gonna have to figure out how to tame me." Rhyne nodded towards Tristan who was standing in his usual corner behind her. There were more laughs at the table.

Rhyne took one more swig of her ale and stood. "I'll see you in the morning boys." She got several goodnights as she walked away. She walked up to the battlements once more. She sat on the edge of the Wall, looking into the forest to the North. The moon broke through a hole in the black clouds and Rhyne looked up. "Give me strength Great Mother. Watch over us as we go on our quest to the west beaches." As if she answered her the thunder finally cracked and rain started pouring down.

Rhyne started laughing and threw her arms out to welcome the wet blanket over the world. "You must be the only person I know that actually enjoys the rain," said a voice from behind her.

She wasn't startled, but just stood facing him. "Rain is a gift from the Gods, Tristan. It is what keeps the world young."

"Oh, really. And what about humans?" He slowly started to walk towards her.

She motioned to him as well. "Us. It helps wipe away everything horrible from your past, and make room for a new beginning."

"Really? It does all that, without making you cold?"

They met a few feet from each other. "Well, the cold is just a bad side effect. Are telling me you hate the rain?" They were both soaked now.

"Most of the time."

"And the times that you don't?"

"It's when I'm thinking about my first winter here. When we played tag in the rain in every storm."

"Hmm…" Without hesitating Rhyne pushed his shoulder and ran the other direction. "Your it!" She yelled back at him.

Rhyne got down the steps and saw him chasing after her. She ran towards the well and got on the other side to wait for him. He ran up and stopped. "You are a lot faster than you used to be."

"And you're a lot slower." They stayed still a moment and then he moved first. She screamed as she ran away from him. When she looked back she slipped in a puddle of water and tried to recover her footing when he grabbed her. She screamed again. They fell back onto a huge pile of wet hay. They were side by side on their backs. "You're supposed to tag me, not tackle me."

"Oh, and I thought I was supposed to tame you," he said leaning his head in his hand.

"And how do you expect to accomplish that?" Rhyne lifted her head from the hay. He inched closer to her and moved her drenched hair from her face. Tristan leaned in and kissed her. Rhyne's hand moved to his cheek. The kissed deepened. Fourteen years of want and hunger passed through them. He pulled her tight to him. When they finally pulled away they were breathing hard. She leaned her forehead against his. "I would say you clasped the leash tight."

He chuckled. Rain was still pouring down on them. "You should have been nicknamed the Hawk, not me."

Rhyne laughed. "And what would that make you?" She looked at him.

"How many people do know with a pet hawk?" She thumped him.

"I think Lancelot has rubbed off on you. The silent scout is now the cocky killer."

He shook his head. "Don't you mean tamer." She could not respond because his lips pushed to hers and again. He picked her up in his arms and took the back way to the resident halls, away from the tavern.

* * *

Lancelot and Sparrow were watching Gawain and Galahad sing when she felt the few drops of rain. She elbowed Lancelot to look up. Just then thunder cracked and rain started to pour down on top of them. Everyone started running for cover. Lancelot grabbed her hand and ran into the rain. "Where are we going?"

"If we get to the res halls now, we'll be stuck there all night." They ran to the halls and up the stairs where they finally had shelter from the wet.

They both stopped to look at each other at the end of the hall. Sparrow put her hands on his chest, and chuckled. "You're soaked."

He moved the loose hair from her face. "So are you." Lancelot pulled her closer to him and kissed her. He then backed up slowly and opened the door to his room, and shut it once they were in. He pushed her up against the wall and their passion took over. He threw off his tunic. Sparrow studied him. His skin was an almond tone and it was an ocean of scars. He was fit, and it made him even more desirable to her. Lancelot laid her on the fur covers on his bed. "Are you sure you're ready for this?"

She nodded. "Be gentle," she whispered. Their love was a deep spark of passion in their hearts, and has passed through the generations before them more than once.

* * *

Tristan was carrying Rhyne on his back, and her arms were around his neck. She was kissing his neck. "If you keep doing that we will never make it to my room." He felt a smile against his skin. She slipped one of her hands down the front of his tunic. They were just down the hall from his room now. Tristan set Rhyne down then pulled her tight to his chest. His touch was soft, but hungry.

He pushed her against his door and he turned the knob and let them inside. He kicked the door closed and locked it. He took off his tunic and put his underneath Rhyne's as he pulled it over her head. She had a encircled pentacle around her belly button. He un-tucked the cloth wrapped around her breasts she started to twirl out of it. She had two more tattoos on her back. Wings were outstretched from shoulder to shoulder and connected between her shoulder blades. And there was a line of Celtic knots that dangled down from the bottom of the wings down the middle of her back to the top of her hips.

But the tattoos was not the only thing he noticed. She had scars all over her. He had seen them on her arms, but that is normal for a warrior. What he saw now was not. "What happened?"

Rhyne looked at all her scars. "My past." She said it very softly. She saw Tristan's worry. "Do not worry, my love. One day I will tell you, but I'm not ready. The rain is giving me a chance for a new start, and I will not let it pass by.

He kissed her lovingly and lowered her to the bed. They made love all through the night as the rain keep pouring outside washing away their broken past and handing them a new slate.

* * *

The rain kissing scene I borrowed from the Notebook. I loved that scene. I think there is something sexy about the rain, so kissing as it pours down around you is even better. Thanks for all your reveiws, hoped you liked this chapter 


	7. Visions

**_Disclaimer: same as before_**

**_Tracy 137: Thank you. I really respect your opinion. I have loved all your stories. And you also are one my fav author list along with all three of your stories. I had to put those rain scenes in, I just couldn't resist. Thanky ou for reading._**

**_Thank you all for your reviews...did not have enough to reply to all...have to go to class. I will next chapter._**

Justice Will Rhyne

Chapter Seven-Visions

Rhyne awoke before the sun appeared above the horizon. They were facing each other in the bed. Both his arms were around her and her head rested on his chest. She smiled and kissed his chest lightly. His thumb started to caress the skin on her shoulder. Rhyne looked up at him and saw his eyes were open. "How long have you been awake?" She whispered.

"For a while. I didn't want to wake you. You are so peaceful when you sleep. How can you have such horrible dreams that you wake up as you did that night?"

"Well, I don't always have you in my arms, do I?" Rhyne leaned up and kissed him. His grip around her tightened. She pulled back after a few moments. "I need to go get ready. And take a bath." She stood and started to dress.

Tristan lay watching her. "What do you want to tell them?"

She knew what he meant. "Well, we can tell them now, or tell them later. Or just walk out to the stables with arms around one another. Everyone knew it would happen sooner or later." She continued gathering her clothes, which were scattered around his room.

"I'll take number three."

Rhyne slipped on her boots, but didn't tie them. Then she looked at him. "I like that one too." She bent down and kissed him one last time. She tried to pull away but he wouldn't let her. She laughed through their lips.

Rhyne eventually pulled free. She popped her head out of the door and looked up and down the hall. No one was coming. She blew one more kiss to Tristan and went out the door. She closed it softly behind her and then she was suddenly knocked into from behind.

* * *

Sparrow awoke as an arm moved around her waist. She could feel Lancelot's breath on the back of her neck. Her head rested on his shoulder and his arm was tightly around her waist. She looked out the window. The sun hadn't risen yet, but she could see the blue sky slowly appearing over the horizon.

Sparrow turned around to face him. She almost laughed when she saw that he almost grinned when he slept. She watched him for a few moments then stood from the bed slowly and started to dress. Before she walked out the door she kissed his sleeping lips. He stirred, but still slept. He grinned that grin, the one she fell for. And he started to mumble something. "Sparrow…I love you."

She couldn't move. He had said it last night, in the heat of the moment, but so did she. It meant nothing. You say a lot of things you don't mean in moments like that, like when you are angry; things just slip out. This was different. This was like speaking in your fever. These things you mean.

He awoke as she was kneeling there next to him. "Sparrow. Are you okay?" He leaned up onto his elbows.

"Yes." She looked into his eyes. "You said, you loved me." She sat down next to him.

Lancelot put his arms around her. "And I do." She didn't look at him. "I am no going to lie to you. I have been with a number of different women. But the way you make me feel, it's different than anything I have ever felt. Every time I look at you, touch you, kiss you, I feel a fire flowing through my veins. And you said you felt it too."

"I did, and I do, even now. But do you know its love."

"What else could it possibly be?" He kissed the side of her head.

"Lancelot, I'm only fourteen. You are ten years older than me."

"Don't worry. We'll make it work. If I ever hurt you, you can kill me yourself. Just promise me one thing."

"What." She said very distraughtly.

"That you'll let me have at least one of my swords, so I can have at least a fighting chance against you." She looked at him and he grinned. Sparrow smiled, and he erupted in laughter. She thumped him.

Lancelot leaned in and kissed her, deeply. "I need to go, before anyone else gets up." She gave him one last kiss before opening the door. She looked back one more time and he mouthed 'I love you'. She blew him a kiss and went out. Sparrow closed the door softly. She was tying on her trousers as she walked to her room and bumped into something in front of her. Sparrow screamed, and fell backwards. The person in front of her jumped forward a few feet.

Sparrow saw who it was. "Mother! What are you doing outside?" She stood.

"Sparrow? What are you doing out?" Rhyne eyed her daughter questionably. The door in front of them opened, and Sparrow screamed again. Tristan came out, with sword in hand. His clothes looked as if they were shuffled on. Lancelot's door opened and he stepped out with just his trousers on.

"What's going on?" Tristan asked.

"Nothing. We just startled each other. It's okay." Rhyne said.

"Why did you scream?" Lancelot asked.

"I was startled. Wasn't watching where I was walking." Sparrow explained.

A door further down the hall opened. "What's going on?" Galahad yelled. Still with a bit of a slur.

"Nothing, go back in your rooms." Rhyne said down to him.

"I heard a scream."

"Yeah. That was me. It was nothing." Sparrow said.

"A scream is not just nothing," another voice said from across the way.

"Well, it was nothing this time Gawain. Go back in your rooms." Sparrow snapped.

A door opened beneath him Bors came out. "What is everybody yacking and screaming about at this hour!"

"Shh! Bors, it's okay, we just scared each other." Rhyne tried to explain. But everyone started to ask more questions. The entire hall was now full of noise. Dagonet opened his door but said nothing.

Arthur came around the corner from behind Rhyne. "What's going on? I can hear all of you from my quarters. What are you all doing?" He was slightly angry.

"Sparrow screamed." Gawain said.

"Twice." Galahad pointed out.

"I was startled." Sparrow tried to explain.

"From what?" Bors asked.

"Her." Sparrow pointed to Rhyne.

"Why?" Arthur asked.

"She bumped into me." Rhyne said.

"Why?" Bors asked from below.

"I wasn't watching where I was walking." Sparrow explained.

"You two bumped into each other in the hall, then she screamed, twice. And then you lot came out to see what happened."

"Exactly." Tristan said leaning up against his door.

It was silent for a moment. "Wait. Why were you two walking in the halls to begin with?" Arthur now looked absolutely confused.

"That's what I want to know?" Gawain said crossing his arms. The rest of the knights nodded in an agreement, except for Lancelot and Tristan. Lancelot looked down and started scratching his head, while Tristan looked down trying to hide a smirk. He didn't hide it very well.

"You are smiling." Gawain pointed to Tristan. "Why are you smiling?" He looked at Tristan questionably for a moment. "And you." He now looked over to Lancelot. "Where are your cocky remarks? I haven't heard one." Lancelot just shrugged. "The first time in your life and you have nothing to say." He just looked at him for a moment. "Something is going on here."

Everyone was now looking at Gawain. "He's right. Something is strange." Bors commented.

"Oh come on, knights. It's not that strange." Dagonet's first words of the morning. "Rhyne came from Tristan's room, and Sparrow from Lancelot's. They knocked into each other when walking back to their own rooms, and all this mess started."

Everyone eyes were now shifting between Rhyne and Sparrow. The silence was broken with Rhyne's laughter. "I'm impressed. Besides Tristan, he must be the only smart observational one of you lot." There was no laughter except for Rhyne's because everyone was still confused.

Bors finally cut through her laughter. "Hey! It's about time. Good for you fellas! This calls for a drink."

"Bors! It's not even dawn." Gawain point out.

"So."

"Bors. For you, anything is a cause to celebrate." Rhyne leaned against the wall next to Tristan. This time she got laughter from her remark.

"Okay, okay. You knights better start getting ready. It's not too long before dawn." Arthur walked away then.

Rhyne looked over to Tristan. "Well, I guess we'll have to take choice number four." He nodded in agreement. She kissed him. "I'll meet down at the stables." Rhyne started to walk to her room, but noticed the silence around her. She brought her head up and all the knights were staring. "What!" No answer. "Oh come on. Is it that much of a surprise." Rhyne walked into her room a little annoyed.

Their eyes shifted to Sparrow. "Oh no. You're not getting a proof kiss from me." She then disappeared into her room quickly. The knights were left to stare at each other. Lancelot and Tristan quickly ducked into their rooms.

"Well. They're right. Why are we surprised?" Gawain asked.

"I don't know." Galahad wondered. The rest simply just shrugged and all disappeared into their rooms. The halls were quiet once more.

* * *

Rhyne closed the door behind her and turned her attention towards the bed. Hawk was lying on, dead asleep. "Hey! What do you think you're doing?" Hawk mumbled something without looking up. "I know you're sleeping. I meant in my bed?" He mumbled something again. "Well, it doesn't matter now, because very soon I will be moving next door, with Tristan." She whispered it into his ear. He popped his head up. "Yep, that's right. Now you can have your own room, as long as Arthur allows it."

Rhyne walked up to the tub. The water was cold from last night, but the coldness would be good to her. Her skin was sticky from sweat, and it would wake her up.

After her bath she dried and dressed. She put most of her hair in random braids, getting it out of her face. She put on her sleeveless tunic, meant to be worn under her armor. Rhyne slipped on her boots and checked both knives to make sure they were sharp. Then she lifted the chest and took out her weapons, armor and packing bags. She packed only changes of trousers and tunics, and two cloaks. And packed one of her father's books, _The Iliad_.

"Hawk, come here." The wolf came to her. Rhyne knelt on the floor and he sat before here. She took his head in her hands and touched her forehead to the top of his head. "Goddess, watch over us as we go on this quest. Guide our hands, that we may sustain justice on this soil. Protect and watch over our brothers. Give me strength that I may fulfill my task to these people." She tied a beaded necklace around his neck. And another around hers. "So mote it be."

Rhyne buckled her new forearm coverings around her arms, and then showed them to Hawk. "Aren't these great?" He nodded. Tristan walked in.

"You ready?" He was carrying his pack bags and already had his travel armor on.

"Yeah. Just help put these on," she said pointing to the chest plate and shoulder covers.

"Where did you get these?"

"It was my fathers. Arthur had it remodeled to fit me. Aren't they beautiful?"

"Yes, they are well made," he commented while buckling her chest plate on. Then he attached the leather skirts, and then moved to the shoulders.

"Did you pack any food yet?"

"No."

"Well, I got some for you." He motioned towards one of his bags. Tristan then noticed her arm covers. "What are these?" He picked up one of her arms and studied the blade.

"Arthur's idea." Rhyne just smiled. "How do I look?"

Tristan looked her over. "The armor fits perfectly. You look like a knight." She walked towards him and put her arms around his neck. They kissed. Rhyne slid her fingers through his hair. He groaned slightly and pulled her hips tight to his. "I don't like armor on when doing this, I can't feel you," she said with lips against his.

"Well, we will just have to wait til tonight then."

She pulled away from him with a stunned look, and punched his chest. "You are so bad."

He smiled and handed her belt that had two sheathed daggers attached. "Come we must go." She buckled the belt at her hips. Then he held out Titan. "This is a good sword. Designed much like mine."

"Yes, but lighter, and a little shorter." She took it in her hand, and suddenly she was no longer in her room, or in the fort. She was in a small clearing. Bodies lying all around her. She could smell blood, and could feel her blood on fire. She was raging with anger. And then, she saw in the distance a body she recognized. Sparrow. Then everything went black.

Rhyne woke up from the vision on her knees, and Tristan was calling her name. "I'm fine," she heard herself say.

"Fine? You just collapsed."

Rhyne stood on her feet. Her head was pounding. "That's how it happens." She said simply.

"How what happens?" Tristan was confused. He didn't show it, but she heard it in his voice.

"My visions. I collapse when they come to me. And wake up when they are over." Rhyne splashed cold water on her face.

"Visions? I don't understand."

"When I was fifteen I was dedicated to the Goddess for life. I became a witch under her service." She was now strapping Titan over her shoulder, and it sat contently on her back. "Since then I have had visions. Of my past, others past, the present. And at times, even things that have not yet come to pass. This is one of those times, and this is something I have to stop." She threw her packed travel bags over her shoulder. And took Draco in her other hand. "I need to speak with my daughter." Rhyne walked out the door with Hawk at her heels. Tristan eventually followed.

* * *

Hope you all like it. Thanks.


	8. Staying Behind?

_**Disclaimer: same as before…**_

**_Banatic66: yes…11._**

**_Camreyn: Will she? You will find out this chapter. And thanks for the review tip._**

**_Tracy137: I was smiling the whole time I wrote that scene. I wanted to make sure I captured that camaraderie. I feel it is very important to the story. You did a great job always capturing that as well. I loved the chapter in Fallen Knights return where they carry out Bethan's plan to get Dagonet and the other girl (I can't remember her name) together. I was laughing throughout that entire part._**

**_Keelin: I was flinching when I was writing that scene as well. But it was a normal thing of the time period. And a good friend of mine was very persistent that Sparrow and Lancelot need to be together. So I did it._**

**_Hiril Narwain: just wait…_**

**_Lucillaq: I know…I am jealous of her myself. Though I try to always put myself in my lead character's shoes when I am writing story. So I guess you could say that I am writing myself into Rhyne…even though I didn't live back then, and I don't know anything about sword fighting or anything of that sort. _**

Justice Will Rhyne

Chapter Eight-Staying Behind?

Rhyne knocked on Sparrow's door. "Come in," said a voice from inside. Rhyne opened the door and found Sparrow braiding her hair. "Mother, that armor. It's amazing. But what was said earlier, is it true?" She stood and walked over to face Rhyne. She smiled, but before she could speak there were two arms around her. "I'm happy for you mother. After everything."

Rhyne stepped back from her. "And you, and Lancelot."

"Oh, mother. Please do not be angry with me. I-"

Rhyne shook her head. "I am not angry. I told you it was okay. I had you long before I was fourteen, so I have no right to stop you. Just don't do something you will regret. Okay." Sparrow nodded and they hugged once more. "Sparrow, there is something I need to speak with you about." They sat on the edge of the bed. Rhyne took a deep breath before she spoke. " I know your mind, and I know you asked Arthur if you could join us. And I am glad he said no."

Rhyne was cut off by a wave of protest. "Mother, of all people I thought you would allow it. You know I am ready. I have the skill, and the ability. Why? Why can't I go!" She was standing now.

"I do not doubt you have the skill, against the Celts. But fighting the Saxons is different. They are not human. I understand your reason of wanting to go. I myself fought them at your age, but I had no choice. There was no one around me, to protect me. I had to do it myself. That is not the life I wish you to have."

"I have the right to choose my own fate. This is the fate I choose." She was raging.

"Your soul is not ready to kill! I was different. I had a reason to kill, to take life. I had revenge running through my veins! You do not! Your conscience can not take that weight."

"How do you know? How can anyone know that except for me, when I am ready!"

"You have different blood than me. You have not lived a life that could endure so much hate as I have. Your blood does not rage as mine does. One day, it will. Of that I have no doubt, but it is not your time. Promise me; promise me you will not follow."

Sparrow was now in despair instead of anger. She would not win. "You will not relent from this fight?"

"No. You know me that well."

"Than I will do what I must, and stay behind." Rhyne hugged her, and kissed her forehead. "Come to the stables in a while. We will be leaving."

Rhyne walked out of the room with rage in her eyes. Tristan was waiting outside. Hawk walked beside her. "Little Brother, if I didn't need you at my side I would tell you to watch her."

"What is it? What's wrong?" Tristan asked from behind.

"She promised me she would not follow, but I do not believe her. I could see it in her eyes. She is hiding something."

"How do you know that?"

"Her weapons were no where in site. She is hiding them, which means she's up to something."

They came to the stables and most of the knights were already there. "Arthur," Rhyne called as she walked into the stables. "I must speak with you." He saw something was wrong and nodded intently. She spoke so the others could not hear. "I need to make sure that Sparrow stays here. I have a feeling she will follow."

"What would you ask of me?" Arthur knew how serious this was. Sparrow begged him to allow her join them. Sparrow was a person that would not give in to any task she was set on, like her mother.

"24 hour guard with her, the whole time we are gone. And make sure they are people who can handle themselves. She is more than a mere girl."

"It will be done sister." He put his hand on her shoulder for reassurance. Arthur then noticed the armor, and eyed it with a smile. "It seems like it fits well. He would be proud of you."

Rhyne breathed in with a smile. "I know. He would be glad to know his armor was being used, rather than a decoration." His smile became bigger. "What?"

"I am happy for you." Rhyne just smiled again and nodded.

She walked over to Zyfer, who had already been saddled. "Good morning, girl. You ready for a long ride?" The horse neighed loudly. "Aye, I am as well." Rhyne continued to have a conversation with her as she settled her travel bags behind the saddle, buckling them in place. She laughed occasionally and Zyfer reared slightly a few times, clearly enjoying a talk with her companion. Hawk joined in the conversation as well. The knights were amazed at the way she talked to Hawk and that they always knew what each other were thinking. But now as they listened and watched her engage with Zyfer and the wolf at the same time, they were caught in awe. Tristan had always talked to his horse and the hawk, but never like this. Rhyne talked to them as if they to were humans. "How do you do that?" Rhyne looked under the neck of Zyfer and saw Tristan in the next stall feeding his horse an apple while watching her.

"How do I talk to them?" He nodded. "Animals have feelings, just as humans do. They show them differently, but they have them. I have seen you talk to your hawk, and others talk to their horses."

"But not like you. You understand everything. If Hawk so much as looks up at you, you know exactly what he's thinking, even though it could have a million different meanings." He spoke with a submissive face, but she could see the wonder in his eyes.

"He has been with me for a long time. I know every look, every growl, attitude, howl, mumble, just as if I would know every one of yours if I have been with you for fourteen years. It is no different than that. He is more than a pet, but a little brother." Rhyne could see he was having trouble with it. "You should try to talk to him. Little Brother," Rhyne looked down to him. "Go see Tristan. He wants to talk with you."

The wolf trotted over to Tristan. The other knights heard the exchange and stopped what they were doing to watch. Hawk greeted Tristan with his paws on his chest, as he had for two weeks now. Tristan pet him but the wolf did not move away after as he usually did. Tristan waited, but he stood there. He realized the wolf was waiting for something. He saw the necklace around his neck. "What's this?" Tristan asked fingering it. Hawk mumbled something. Tristan looked at Rhyne. 'I gave it to him', she mouthed. "Oh, she gave it to ya huh? And what does it do?" He mumbled again. 'Protects you'. "And how does it do that?" Another mumble. 'The Goddess, magic'. By now, the knights were trying with dear life to stop from laughing out loud. "You should tell Rhyne to make all of us all one. We would be honored to have the protection of the Goddess." This time Hawk howled, then trotted back over to Rhyne and mumbled something to her before lying down. Tristan was stunned. "What did he say?"

Rhyne laughed. "That was an 'okay'. And now I have to make seven necklaces when we get back." The rest of the stables fell into laughter.

"Oh Tristan. You should try speaking to an infant, it is much the same. You always have to bloody guess what they are saying. Vanora always tells me about each whine, laugh and giggle. It all sounds the same to me. It's noise and it's irritating." Bors yelled from the other side of the stables.

Rhyne walked over to still a dumbfounded Tristan. "You should be pleased. He usually never talks to anyone but me and Sparrow. There is something about you that he trusts. That is very unusual for him."

"I'll have to remember that." He pulled her close and planted a kiss. They heard whistles in the background, but ignored them.

Sparrow then came into the stables and saw Lancelot holding out his arms to her. She ran over to him and jumped into his embrace. Her arms were around his neck and legs around his ribs. Lancelot's arms were around her hips. "Hello my sweet fire." He couldn't say anything else because he was drowned in her kiss. There were more whistles from the knights.

Rhyne looked on her daughter with a big smile. She was happy for her. Your first love will always be with you, and having it be a man like Lancelot, it was good for her. He would love her fiercely, and she him. It will be hard, because they will constantly challenge each other, but that is the kind of love they need. Rhyne was still within Tristan's arms. "I just hope he doesn't break her heart."

Tristan looked over to Lancelot and Sparrow as well and watched how they interacted. "He won't." Rhyne looked onto his deep brown eyes. She moved the few dangly strands of hair from his face. "I need to put new braids in your hair." She whispered to him. He kissed her forehead.

Sparrow was now saying farewell to the rest of the knights. She kissed them all on the cheek. Arthur said a few silent words to her, and she nodded as he spoke. She then walked over to Rhyne but was greeted by Hawk first. "Take care of mother, Hawk." He howled in response. Sparrow hugged her mother. "Blessed Be, mother."

"Blessed Be, my daughter. Remember what I told you."

"I promise." Sparrow than moved to Tristan. She hugged him. He looked awkward for a moment than put his arms around her as well. "Take care of her."

"I will." He answered simply, as always.

Sparrow ran over to Lancelot to give him one last goodbye. They all mounted their horses and began moving out of the stables. Lancelot took Sparrow's hand and Rhyne saw him mouth something to her. Sparrow blew him a kiss in return. Once out of the main village of the fort, they ran at a gallop to the west gate in two lines side by side.. It was already open. Sparrow was on the battlements above the gate. They all waved to her as they rode out the gate, and then it was closed.

Sparrow watched until they were out of sight. "Watch over them Great Mother. Let my feet be light and swift as I run to their aide." Sparrow sprinted back to her room. Out side there were two men, in roman armor. "Who are you?"

"We are your guard miss. Our orders are to make sure you stay in the fort at all times. We were ordered by Commander Artorius."

_Of course you were_. Now if she was ever to get out of the gates she would have to get rid of them. She said nothing else to them, just went in her room and locked the door behind her. She went right over to her chest and took out her travel bags that were already packed, enough clothes and food to last the journey. She had gone to the tavern this morning and said the food was for her mother, but instead packed it for her self. Sparrow was lucky when her mother did not check and see if her bags were packed. But still must have suspected since she had this lot at her door. But she knew exactly how to get rid of them. She set a cauldron over the fire and began to heat some water. Then she took a vial of herbs from her chest. Belladonna. She put two pinches in the water. She threw in some other herbs as well, to make a tea.

As the tea was heating Sparrow took out her armor and weapons. She changed into the clothes meant to be underneath her armor and waited. The tea was done shortly after and she poured it into two mugs. Sparrow then opened her door. "For my appreciation of your protection I made you two a special tea." They looked at her uneasily. They must be wine drinkers. "Come, come. It is special. It will give you energy, and I know you will need a lot of it." They took it then and nodded their thanks. She didn't close the door until she saw them both start drinking.

Sparrow shut her door again and locked it. She strapped on her armor and weapons. By the time she was totally ready she heard a clank outside her door. She opened it slowly and saw that both guards were fast asleep. Belladonna, works every time. It was a special herb that helps you sleep. She took it herself when her courses her upon her. Sparrow slipped out the door and made her way to the stables. Hopefully, Jols would have gone back to bed. She peered around corner into the stables. No one was there.

She trotted over to Orion, her mare, quickly. "Hey girl. Ready for an adventure?" The horse neighed excitedly. She saddled Orion as quickly as possible. When she was sure there was no one outside to stop her she mounted. She led her mount outside the stable.

"Where are you off to?" Sparrow turned and saw Jols leaning on the door of the stables. Sparrow cursed to herself. "You know you are not allowed off the compound. And I can see from your packing you are not just going to train in the ring. Come off your horse; don't make me call the guard on you." Sparrow dismounted and gave him the reins. She followed behind him back into the stables. She did not come this close to being free to give up now. Once inside the safety of the doors she gripped a dagger in her hand.

"Jols."

"What?" he did not face her, just kept walking forward.

"I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"This." She hit him in the neck with the hilt of her blade. He was knocked out cold. "Forgive me. But I must help them." She mounted Orion once more and headed for the west gate. There were only two guards posted at this gate, while there were more at the North Wall. But there were no Woads to the west as there were to the North. They saw here approach. "Open the gates." She commanded it very sternly.

"What is your business outside the gates?"

"I am to Deva. I have a message from Commander Artorius Castus for the Governor." She held up a small role of parchment. It was fake of course. Inside nothing was written. She would try to deceive them rather than use force. That was a last resort option. "It is of great importance."

"What is the message?"

"I am only the messenger. I do not dishonorably read my Commander's notes to his superior."

They looked at each other questionably. "Why does he send you?"

"Well, if you haven't noticed. He and his Sarmatian Knights have gone on a mission. He entrusted the message to me for its flight to Deva."

They still did not by it. "Why were we not informed of your quest?"

"The commander is a busy man. He handed the message to me just this morning. Are you going to let me through or not? I'm sure he will not be happy when he finds that this message did not reach the Governor on time when they return. He said to me himself it is of great importance."

"And if we refuse you?"

"You will have to deal with the wrath of him and six other Sarmatian Knights when they return. You know their freedom is within six months. They are anxious men." Sparrow knew the Romans feared the knights. And mentioning to them their impending freedom was a device just to scare them more. Lancelot had told her the tension between them and he Roman soldiers of the fort has been growing in the past year.

They finally faltered. "Okay. Go on." The gate was opened in front of her. She began to lead her horse out the gate, but there was a shout from behind them.

"NO! CLOSE THE GATES! DON'T LET HER OUT!" It was Jols, running in their direction frantically. The gate began to then close. Sparrow heeled Orion hard and she galloped forward. They just made it out the gates before they were crushed. Sparrow galloped until the Wall was out of sight.

_**A/N: This chapter seemed kind too fast. But I did want that feel when Sparrow was getting ready. Hope you liked it. **_


	9. A Warrior's Fate

**_Disclaimer: same as before...I quote a part of The Iliad in this chapter. And I also borrow a quote from one of my favorite shows, Angel. I change one of the words though.It was said by Lindsay (Christain Kane)in the fifth season. I want to see if you guys can recongize it. I will tell you at the beginning of next chapter what it is. _**

**_Tracy137: I forgot about the 'punching game'. I loved that part--I was laughing hysterically. I read a book by Nicholas Sparks that had a dog much like Hawk. I loved that dog, and wanted something in this story of that sort._**

**_Hiril Narwain: I agree...but she will learn a lesson. _**

**_Emo-Kitty: I thought I wasn't writing fast enough._**

**_Camreyn: Her mother should have. But Rhyne already didn't believe her. She could not have done much else except ask for the guard. Who knew Sparrow would be that persistant. _**

**_Countess Jackman: I think if I was Sparrow, I would too. You will find out who Conner is in due time. I like having Rhyne's past be a mystery. More comes out in this chapter. It makes you keep reading. HeeHee. _**

Justice Will Rhyne

Chapter Nine-A Warrior's Fate

The knights followed the west trail to the beaches. Hawk was running at Rhyne's side, except when to go feed himself. The sun was setting, and they were now deep into the woods. They stopped when they could no longer see the sun and the light was failing. "We will camp here. Begin again at dawn." Arthur stated dismounted his horse.

Rhyne unsaddled Zyfer and let her wonder the grounds for grass. Hawk came trotting over to her with a rabbit in his mouth. "Good job Little Brother. Find about four more, and then one for yourself." He nodded his head then disappeared into the darkness of the trees. She piled her things next to a tree. Gawain was starting to build a fire. "Hey, Gawain." He looked over to her and she held up the dead rabbit. "We should have four more soon to go along with this one." Dagonet whistled to her, and she tossed the rabbit his direction. He took out his dagger and began to skin it.

Soon enough there were five rabbit carcasses cooking over the fire. Hawk lay next to Rhyne devouring his own rabbit. She pet him lovingly. Tristan returned from scouting and gave Arthur a nod. There would be no one bothering them this night. He unsaddled his own horse and sat on the ground next to Rhyne. She was laying on her side propped up on an elbow with her nose in a book. Tristan looked at the cover. _The Iliad_ was etched into the leather. "She's been reading that rubbish since she sat down. Hasn't spoken a word either," Bors said to Tristan.

"It's far from rubbish Bors," Rhyne said without looking away from the leather bound book. "_The Iliad_ tells the story of the two greatest warriors who ever lived."

"Umm…well that's very appropriate, considering our circumstances. And who exactly are they?" Lancelot asked.

Rhyne was about to speak but it was answered for her. "Achilles and Hector. Two foes of two different lands, brought together through love and betrayal."

Rhyne looked away from the book for the first time. She smiled at Arthur surprisingly. "I'm impressed. Have you read it?"

"No. My mother used to tell me the story when I was a child." He said it in a very somber tone. Rhyne could tell he was still angered by his mother's death.

"Oh. That is the story of Troy. I know that one. I'll tell you one thing, if I was Paris, I would have burnt that wooden horse myself. That's the only reason he lost Helen."

"Of course you would say that. You would be distracted by Helen as well. I swear you could be the reincarnation of Paris." Rhyne said sarcastically. "The reason Paris lost Helen was because he took her in the first place. He should have left things be and Troy may still exist."

"Yes, but you wouldn't be reading that book then, would you?" Tristan stated.

"I would trade the existence of Troy with the non-existence of this book. I would trade peace with war any day, without hesitation. But because of the way the world is I am forced to fight and run into war."

"You have never been forced to, as we have," Galahad said annoyed with her statement.

"I have been forced to protect my homeland. For years the earth of this Isle has soaked in nothing but blood, including that of my father. I am supposed to make the choice of peace and watch more of my people die. No, I would rather die myself than make that choice. Warriors don't accept the world the way it is, they fight it." Rhyne went back to her book.

The knights have never been in the presence of someone like her. She continually surprises them with wisdom she did not have when she left fourteen years ago. Some stayed silent at her comment, but others nodded in agreement. Deep down they knew she was pointing it to them. She knew they were all leaving the moment they get there discharge. They all argued with themselves, saying they are not warriors by choice. This fate was chosen for them. They were here because they had to be, not because they wanted to fight. But they also knew deep down, she was right. To choose peace in a time of war was wrong. To turn your back on others who were dying in your stead. Rhyne was the only true warrior among them.

"Why don't you read out loud to us?" Arthur said it pleadingly.

Rhyne looked over the top of her book to all the knights. They were waiting for her expectantly. She nodded and began to read where she left off:

_What a worthless, burnt-out coward I'd be called_

_If I would submit to you and all your orders,_

_Whatever you blurt out. Fling them at others, _

_Don't give me commands!_

_Never again, I trust, will Achilles yield to you._

_And I tell you this--take it to heart, I warn you--_

_My hands will never do battle for that girl,_

_Neither with you. King, or any man alive…_

She read to them far into the night, until the last embers of their fire burnt out.

* * *

Rhyne awoke in the arms of Tristan, as they lay up against a tree. Her head was lying on his shoulder, and one hand was grasping his thick tunic. The sun hadn't risen yet and she could see many knights still asleep. She stirred to look up at Tristan's eyes and they were open. "A girl could get used to waking up every morning like this." She pulled one of his braids down and kissed him. His grip around her tightened.

"We must all wake soon. The sun will be up within the hour."

"And then you must go scouting." He nodded. "And we won't be like this until tonight." He nodded again. "Well then, what are we talking for?"

She kissed him again, passionately. Tristan hooked one of her legs with one of his, pulled her closer. Rhyne smiled against his lips. One of his hands started to slide underneath her tunic. Rhyne groaned slightly. Then they were not the only ones awake.

"Come now children, what would Arthur think?"

Tristan and Rhyne looked in the direction of the whisper. Gawain and Galahad were peering at them. Rhyne just lay against Tristan's chest and sighed. "Umm…it's nice to be a kid again." She felt him chuckle underneath her.

* * *

Tristan left to scout just before sun came up, and then the rest of the knights were out soon after. Rhyne got an apple from her saddle bag bit into it. She rode up next to Lancelot. He just smiled at her. Rhyne said nothing, just ate. Once she finished she threw the core into the trees, and looked over to Lancelot. He hadn't said a word directly to her since they left. For some reason he is scared of her. Rhyne started to laugh. Lancelot looked at her questionably. Rhyne finally spoke. "If you ever call me Mother, I will personally kill you." Rhyne saw Tristan returning and rode forward to greet him. She was still laughing at Lancelot when she rode up next to Tristan who was speaking to Arthur. They gave a quirky look. She shook her head and they went back to their conversation.

"There is nothing on the road for miles. We will probably have no resistance until we go above the wall." Arthur nodded. There was a cry high above them. Tristan's hawk glided down to them and landed on his shoulder. She nibbled his ear lovingly and he reached up to scratch her head.

"When will we get to the West Beach Fort?" Rhyne asked.

"About two days."

"Good. I want a real bed. I spent fourteen years sleeping in nature. I love it, but you get tired of it real fast." Hawk came running up to them from ahead of the trail. He stopped in front of them and lifted his head and gave a long howl.

Arthur and Tristan looked at her. "What is it?" Arthur asked. Rhyne had a shocked look on her face. "Rhyne, what is it?"

"Stay here." She heeled Zyfer forward.

"What!" Tristan yelled to her. "You are not going up there on your own."

Rhyne looked back. "Yes, I am. Stay here. I will be back in moment."

"Rhyne, what-" Arthur started.

Rhyne cut him off. "Please, Arthur. Trust me. Stay here." He nodded after a few moments and she disappeared around the bend of the trail, with Hawk at her heels.

"Where is she off to?" Lancelot asked from behind them.

"I have no idea," Arthur said breathing out his worry.

* * *

Rhyne was slowly making her way through the tight knit forest, with Hawk leading the way. "Where in the world are to taking me Little Brother." At that moment the trees opened up into a small clearing. Rhyne just smiled. "Why did you bring me here?" Rhyne looked in front of her looking over the place she and Sparrow were only a few weeks ago. She looked at the gap in Hadrian's Wall. One that Rome knows nothing about. From the fort she calls home, to the one on the west beach was the biggest gap in forts, and soldiers. The Woads made this hole in the Wall many years ago, and that is when they started traveling south of the wall. She herself helped the destruction of this area. About the width of a small door, a few horses wide.

"Why did you bring me here Little Brother?"

"Because I told him to." Rhyne saw a man appear from the other side of the Wall. A smile covered her face.

"Merlin!" She ran like a little girl into his embrace. "What are you doing here?"

"I came to see you."

"How did you know I was here?" Rhyne gave him a contorted look. "Never mind, I don't want to know." They were silent for a moment. "Merlin, I don't know if I can do this. I feel like I am betraying them."

The Woad leader got a soft look in his eye and put a comforting arm around her. "Dear girl, you don't know how to fail. These men, your brothers, need you. The future must be changed. If your vision comes true Britain will be lost in chaos and your brothers will die. It must be done. You are saving them, not betraying them."

"They won't listen to me. They are the most stubborn people I have ever known."

"Even more stubborn than you?" Rhyne glared at him.

"Merlin, what if I make it worse? What if I kill more of them? What if I am the death of my daughter? She wanted to come with us Merlin. She wants to face the Saxons." She talked in a angry tone.

"You can't stop her from her own fate Rhyne, no more than you can stop yours. You all carry a warrior's fate, in one way or another. You are meant to help these men. You are meant to save them from death. Why else would the Goddess have blessed you with these visions? It is your destiny. You must not despair."

Rhyne hardened at the words. Never. Never in her life has she ever despaired. She was too good for despair. "Yes. It is my destiny. I will not let them die as the others did. I may not have been able to save those already lost, but I will save those who remain." She turned to face Merlin made an 'x' across her heart with her arms and bowed her head before him. Then she spoke in the old language of her mother's people. "I thank you My Lord for your wisdom."

"Dear girl, the wisdom was all your own. You have guided yourself, as usual. Everything you need, I gave to you years ago. Since then, you have guided yourself." Just then, Rhyne saw a sad glint in his eye.

"Merlin, what ails you? You look sad."

"It is Guinevere. I sent her North to governor our men there. We have not heard from her since. That was almost four weeks ago. I fear something has happened to her."

"That is strange. If something has happened I would feel it. Our blood was mixed; we feel each other's pain. Nothing has happened Merlin. I promise you that."

They were silent for a moment, and then he spoke. "You must go child. They will worry for you." Rhyne nodded. She hugged him one last time, and then disappeared into the forest, with Hawk at her heels. "Come out my dear, she is gone." Sparrow came from behind the Wall. Merlin faced her. "Your mother worries for you."

"I know. She says my soul is not ready to inflict death. I think she is wrong." Sparrow held a defiant tone.

"You are just like your mother. Did she ever tell you that she defied my command to stay when we went off to fight? She was but a year older than you, and a deadly weapon."

Sparrow shook her head in disbelief. "No, she never told me."

"I think she is afraid that you will become like her. I don't know what the future holds for you Sparrow, but your fate is leading you to their side. Whatever happens, your fate will bring them together. I know of the Saxon ship they go to see. We will take you there." They walked together back into the North forests.

* * *

The knights finally got Rhyne in sight as she was mounting Zyfer. "What was it?" Arthur yelled ahead to her.

"I don't know. Whatever it was, it's gone now." Rhyne answered them.

"Why were you off your horse?" Tristan asked.

"He led me into the trees. They are too thick to take Zyfer in," she explained bluntly.

"And you saw nothing?" Rhyne just nodded in reply. For a moment the knights questioned her answers. There was just something strange about her demeanor. "Okay then. Let's keep moving." Arthur led the way west again down the trail.

* * *

What do you think? I decided to put Sparrow in there at the last moment. Did it make you gasp? I hope so. That was the reason I did it. 


	10. Curses

**_Disclaimer: same as before…well, the quote I used from Angel was "Heroes don't except the world the way it is, they fight it." I changes heroes to warriors though. Anyways, Rhyne says a Druid curse in this chapter. I have read a lot about Druids, and it seems that the way I have her perform it would be the way they truly do one. I wrote the curse myself, hope it sounds convincing. _**

**_lucillaq: Just be patient.A little will come out each chapter. _**

**_Tracy137: I will not kill them, don't worry...at least as of right now I will not kill them ('evil laugh'). I loved the part in your story when Arthur, Lancelot and Tristan end up sleeping in stables. It was priceless picturing Arthur with a split lip and Lancelot with a black eye. And I love what you are doing with Bethan and Lucen. It is very good. Bethan is such a wild and free spirit. I wish I could be like her. _**

**_Countess Jackman: I yell out aloud when I am reading all the time. My roommates think I'm crazy._**

**_Okay...bare with me this chapter. I finished at 5am and did not edit. I just wanted to get it posted. It should not be that horrible-but there may be a few little mistakes here and there. And this is my first real battle scene...except for the very beginning..but that one was really short. Tell me how you like it..._**

Justice Will Rhyne

Chapter Ten-Curses

They could hear the breaking waves on the beach as they entered the West Beach Fort. Rhyne hadn't seen the ocean for many years. She would have to sit in the sand after they ate tonight.

This fort was no different from theirs they were stationed at, except they did not have any Sarmatian Knights here. All the people of the fort the knights passed glared at them, especially the Roman soldiers. They had probably never run into a situation that they couldn't handle. Having Sarmatian Knights in the fort was an embarrassment to them. Rhyne knew they would not have a comfortable stay here.

A soldier led us to the stables where they unsaddled their steeds and then they were led right to the main meeting hall. The room was very fine, but not as fine as the Round Table. There were torches lining the walls and weapons decorations hanging. The table was a long rectangle, and there were two heads. All the knights, including Arthur instantly felt uncomfortable. Arthur sat directly left to one of the heads and the rest of the knights sat on either side.

Lancelot tried sitting at one of the heads with a smug look on his face but Rhyne smacked the back of his head and he moved next to Arthur. Rhyne sat across from Arthur, and Tristan sat next to her. He took her hand in his under the table and Rhyne smiled at him. A door opened in front of them and a man in ceremonial Roman armor stepped before them. Most of the knights smirked or got a quirky look on their face at the sight of him. His armor shined brighter and any of theirs ever did and his sword, which dangled at his side, must have never been bloodstained. For one thing, it was dangling too low and caught in his boot as he walked. Even Arthur had trouble holding back a smile.

Arthur stood, and some of the knights followed in suit. Rhyne kept her seat, as did Tristan. Bors and Lancelot also kept their seats. Arthur greeted the fellow Roman. Rhyne could not tell whether he was happy, or unnerved to think he shared the same kind of heritage as this man. "My Lord. I am Arthur Castus. Commander of the Sarmatian Knights. I thank you for your hospitality."

The man came pulled the head chair and sat. Arthur and the other standing knights did as well. "No, no Commander. I thank you for coming here. We are in great need of your help. And the name is Lord Marshall." Rhyne laughed inwardly. Seeing as how this man was dressed she never doubted it. "The intruding Saxons killed the best men I have, and the Governor insisted that I ask your assistance. We are honored to have you and your legendary Sarmatian knights at our fort." At that moment he realized it was a woman sitting to the right of him, and not a man. Rhyne gave him a death glare and saw him shudder.

"Lord Marshall, this is Rhyne. Her father was a knight under my father. She is not an ordained knight under me, but is as deadly a weapon as any other. I asked her to accompany us on this quest. While fighting against Saxons we need all the help we can get." All could see his uneasiness to knowing a woman warrior sat next to him. The only race he knew of that trained women along side men were Woads. For all he knew, she was one. This brought a spark of fear into his eyes. The voice of Arthur startled him and he jumped slightly. "What exactly happened to your men?"

He hesitated for a moment. "A few weeks ago smoke was seen rising from the woods about fifteen miles north, directly on the coast. We had not known of any Woads to be in this area for many years. I sent a group of twenty men to see what it was, and they never returned. I sent a message to the Governor right away. He suggested that it might be Saxons, and he also said that he sent a message to you to come here."

"Wait a minute," Rhyne interrupted. "You mean that you are not sure if they are Saxons or not, or even how many there are."

He nodded. Rhyne let out a growl and rolled her eyes to him. The rest of the knights were instantly irritated as well. "We will help you, Lord Marshall. Tomorrow we will go inspect the area." Arthur stated. The knights all looked on him in surprise, and some in anger.

"Outstanding." He stood. "I will call for your meal to be brought to you." He walked out, and the knights were left alone.

"Arthur, are you crazy! That may be a whole army out there." Rhyne blurted out.

"I truly doubt it. The Saxons may be barbaric, but they are not stupid. They would not start their invasion so close to a Roman fort risking their presence. They would start in the North. If it is indeed Saxons, it is a scouting party as you suggested Rhyne. We will check it out in the morning." The knights were some what relaxed at this information, but not totally. The North meant Woads. Even if this buffoon of a lord says they had not seen Woads for years does not mean they are not out there. Rhyne was not worried about Woads, or even Saxons, but of the dream she had the other night, and a bad feeling that was just around the corner.

* * *

When their meal was finished they were showed to the inn and all given their own rooms. Rhyne quickly undressed and left to see the beach. The moon was now shining high over head, and gave a reflection that floated over the water. It was everything she remembered. But her dreams were never as spectacular as the real thing. It looked so empty on the surface, but knew of the monsters that glided underneath the thin veil into another world. It was hard to imagine a whole other world existed in this one, but Merlin told her tales of ocean creatures many long years ago. Even with her beliefs it was hard to imagine.

Rhyne took off her boots and walked bare foot in the sand. She sat down at the water line and watched the waves come in and out on the shore. It was much like her meditation. Repetitions of rhythm over and over again, the slow smooth skill of calming your mind and lifting yourself onto a higher plain. She could easily meditate here. Her thought was interrupted by a voice behind her. "Do you like it?" Rhyne recognized Lancelot's voice.

"I do. But it is not the first time I've seen it. But I still find it hard to believe that an entirely different world lives underneath that surface. Different rules, different lives." He sat down next to her.

"Not really, not when it comes to life and death. The strong live and the weak die."

"Well, if you put it that way. War is always the same, no matter what you are or the way you look at it." She took in a long breathe and let it out again.

They were silent for a moment. "Rhyne." She just looked at him. "You are not angry with me, are you?" He sounded very worried.

Rhyne just chuckled. "No, why should I be? I told Sparrow the same thing that I am about to tell you. It's okay with me. She is of age, and bringing her into a life where she is surrounded by knights, what else could I expect. I would rather her be with no one else. You both will keep challenging each other, but that is the kind of love you need. I know she will have a good life. It be surrounded by war and death, but our times has cursed us to that fate." Rhyne saw how relived her looked. "I'm though, if you ever call me mother, I will not hesitate to kill you." They both smiled, and she thumped him.

They sat there for a while longer and then went back into the fort. They each wished each other a good night and Rhyne went into her room. She saw that there was steaming water in a metal tub in the wash room. There was a knock at the door then. "Come in." Tristan walked into the door. "Hey." Rhyne got a big smile on her face, and they met each other half way. She put her arms around his neck and he held her around the waist.

"Where did you go?" he asked with lips against hers.

"To the beach, and sat a while." They didn't finish the conversation, and were both taken over by their passion for one another. Three days without this contact was torture for them. Neither could stand to be away from one another for that long. They had already endured fourteen years, and did not want to part ever again. Before when they slept together it was hungry and wanting. But as they lay together this night it was passionate. They had each other now, and would always have each other from now on. They bathed together before falling asleep in each other's arms.

* * *

Tristan and Rhyne woke to a knock at the door. "Rhyne." It was Lancelot's voice.

"Yeah." It was a half slumbered answer.

"Arthur wants was at the stables in a half hour."

"Okay." She heard Lancelot move away from the door. "Oh, Lancelot," she yelled after him.

"What." He was partly down the hall.

"Tristan is with me."

"Okay." And they heard his footsteps disappear.

Rhyne looked out the window and then plopped back down next to Tristan. "I will be happy when this mission is over." Tristan tilted his head. "Because I liked sleeping in past dawn." He just chuckled at her.

In a half hour's time all the knights were down at the stables saddling their horses. Galahad came stumbling in last, with a little of a hangover. "Lancelot, I'm kind of surprised you didn't stumble in like that this morning." Rhyne claimed looking at Galahad's condition.

"Since a few days ago I will never have to again," he answered her.

"Oh, Lancelot. It's strange not having a snappy answer back. She really must have tamed you." The rest of the knights looked at Lancelot, to see if he would step up to the challenge.

He never looked away from his horse. "Yeah, she really must have." They were all shocked. To hear words like that come out of his mouth. It was a miracle, or must have been a dream. Bors even slapped himself to make sure it wasn't.

They were riding out the North gate of the Wall soon after. Arthur and Tristan led the way in a double line, as they always did. They never galloped, but walked at a regular pace, to make sure not to attract attention to themselves. And they rode silently, only passing done orders here and there.

They were riding a half day when they were all asked to dismount and go ahead on foot. They walked forward quietly, in a single file line, Tristan at the head. They went on for a half hour when they started to hear shouts from up ahead. They reached the top of a tree covered hill when everything came into view. There was a single Saxon ship a third of the way beached. There were about forty to fifty men down below. The ship was busy with men going in and out to what seemed to be loading things aboard. There were others working on getting the ship into the water. And there was one man standing at the bow of the ship overlooking the work, and another slightly behind him.

All the knights were on their knees watching the scene below them. Rhyne stood and went to kneel at Arthur's side. "I was right. Saxon scouting party. I have seen them before. They carry no more than fifty men. Enough to protect themselves, but not too much to attracted attention. By the looks of things they are ready to leave."

"Yes, I agree." He said nodding to her. "What to you think Tristan."

He though for a moment. "If they are pushing the ship out now they will try and leave by the afternoon tide. It will be up in an hour or two. If we wait any longer we will miss them. Now is a better time than ever. They won't be ready for a surprise attack."

Arthur nodded again. He sat for a moment longer. It seemed by the look on his face Arthur was devising a plan. Rhyne smiled. "What do you have in mind?"

He signaled for us to get back down the hill. If they were going to attack at all they would need horses. They got back to their horses and mounted, and Arthur briefed them on his plan. "We will hike back up the hill. Spread yourselves out on the hill to make out numbers seem bigger. Empty what arrows we have on top of them, and then charge. Try as best you can to not hit the leader, we must try and question him."

With that they hiked back up the hill. Once they reached the top each knight started to spread out. Rhyne took Arthur's hand in hers. "As long as you have a sword in your hand…"

"Justice will Reign." They nodded to one another and spread out. Each knight was apart, but close enough to all see each other. Still mounted they all raised their bows. Arthur released his first and the rest followed. The first men feel down below and they heard the leader start to give out orders. They released more arrows. More Saxons fell. They were all running different directions below them, panic had taken over.

The knights released one round after another. Rhyne reached down for her quiver and felt no more bows. "I'm out!" She yelled to Arthur. They had killed about a forth of the party. Gawain was last to empty his supply when they heard Arthur give the charge. They raced down the hill, screaming as they went. The Saxons were terrified, not knowing how many men to expect. When they finally exited the cover of the trees the Saxons charged them. "Dragon Formation!" Arthur screamed. "ROOUUSS!" they all screamed. The knights moved into the formation and entered the line of Saxons.

Rhyne sheathed Draco next to her saddle and unsheathed Titan at her back as she jumped off Zyfer. The first Saxon came at her with an axe. She spun around to her left and slashed his back and then impaled Titan to his neck, finishing him off. Hawk was at her side fighting Saxons coming her way. Rhyne fought fiercely, slicing throats with the Twins, which is what she decided to name her forearm blades, and cutting heads with Titan. A huge Saxon with a hatchet in one hand and short sword in the other came towards her. He swung his sword at her and she blocked with Titan. He came around with the hatchet but she put up her arm and blocked it with one of the Twins.

He looked at her arm, and didn't understand why it was not bleeding. Then he noticed the blades on her forearms. Rhyne gave him an evil grin.

They moved apart and he attacked again. She rolled under his sword and pulled the Dragon for her side and stabbed the back of his thigh, then twisted. He cried in agony and fell to his knees. She twisted one more time before putting the dagger back in its sheath. He swung the hatchet at her half-muscled but she blocked again with one of the Twins at his forearm and pulled her arm down slicing into his skin. He cried again and then elbowed his ribs then sliced then as well. Some of his blood splattered from his cut artery onto her already bloodied body. Rhyne walked in front of him wielding Titan. She set it against is neck and he looked at her. Rhyne didn't know whether he wanted to live or die, but she didn't care. She muscled through her neck and his head rolled before her. Blood splashed onto her face.

Rhyne heard her name yelled behind her. It was Gawain. "Rhyne!" But he wasn't looking her direction. He yelled in again. "What!" She finally called to him. She heard a growl behind her. Hawk had brought a Saxon down about to impale her with his axe. The wolf bite has neck, and the Saxon bled out. "You did it again Little Brother." Rhyne turned back around and saw Gawain looking at her totally bewildered. "What!" She yelled at him again.

"If your you, then who is that!" Gawain pointed off to his left. Rhyne looked in the direction he pointed. She scanned the battle. Then saw who he was yelling at. Long fiery red hair and then two blades shine in the sun. "Oh Gods! Sparrow!" She ran as fast as she could. "Hawk!" The wolf followed her.

Rhyne saw her daughter surrounded by four Saxons. Rhyne cut her way through any Saxon who crossed her path, and Hawk barreled down those she couldn't handle. She saw Sparrow cleave one through the heart and another in the stomach, but she wasn't fast enough to cut down the third. He sliced into her shoulder, exposing her side to the fourth Saxon who swiped his dagger into her skin as well. Rhyne screamed her name. All the knights heard across the battlefield, looking into her direction, and then seeing the injured girl she was running to. All headed into their direction.

Sparrow recovered somewhat, and tried to fight them off, but blocked poorly and was sliced again in the thigh. Sparrow was sent down to her knees and she dropped both swords. One of the Saxons raised his sword for the kill, but instead found a dagger imbedded in his chest. He fell backwards. The other put up his sword and saw Rhyne coming. He was no match for her lethal rage. She blocked his attack then punched him in the nose with her free hand. She spun and then sliced Titan across his lower belly. Then she stabbed him in the heart. Rhyne walked over to the man with her dagger in his chest. He was dying slowly. Hawk had chewed up his face. You could no longer see his eyes. She put her hand on the hilt, and then twisted. He cried in pain. She pulled it from his body, and then sheathed it. She put one of the Twins against his neck and dung into his neck as hard as she could, ripping out half his neck. Blood covered her chest plate.

Rhyne knelt beside Sparrow, who was now lying sprawled on the ground. Blood was trickling from her mouth. Sparrow looked at her mother. "I'm sorry," as she spat blood. Rhyne shook her head. "Don't apologize, my daughter. It is the past. Now you have to fight. Push against death. Do not relent." Rhyne looked over the gash on her side. It was high on her ribs. He had missed the artery, but it was still deep. She was trying to push back her rage. Her hands were shaking. Lancelot was now on Sparrow's other side. He took her hand and kissed her forehead. There was a rage in his eyes as well. "How bad?" All Rhyne could manage was shaking her head. Her hands were now dripping in her daughter's blood. Her rage now took hold of her.

Rhyne looked at the blood dripping from her hands and then brought them to her face. She streaked her blood from her forehead to her neck. She words being spoke to her, but they didn't register. "Watch her. Cover her wounds. I have unfinished business." Rhyne stood and turned from them. She saw some of the other knights walking their direction. The skirmish was basically over, but she saw there were some Saxons running into the woods. Rhyne unsheathed her sword, and walked after them. One of the knights tried to stop her, but she pushed through him as Hawk growled at him viciously.

The knights saw her disappear into the trees after them. Sparrow was coughing now. "We have to get here back to the fort." Dagonet said with a very impatient voice. They heard distant screams coming from the screams. They thought of Rhyne and were ready to run to her, but then realized the screams were from men. Dagonet wrapped Sparrow's injuries as tightly as he could. Lancelot got on his horse and the other knights helped him sit Sparrow in front of him. "Go as fast as you can without causing her as much pain," Dagonet instructed him. Lancelot just nodded and heeled his horse back towards the fort. They heard him speaking to her as they went.

"Don't leave me, Sparrow. You have to fight. Be strong, my love…" His voice trailed off as they got further away. Galahad decapitated a dead Saxon through his anger.

"How is she?" The knights looked behind them and Rhyne was standing before them. They were stunned at what they saw. They could no longer see the color of her skin. Blood covered her entire body. The dragon on her chest plate was no longer white, but stained red. She still held Titan at her side. Hawk stood beside her, and even he was absolutely covered in blood. They both breathed hard.

Dagonet finally got over her appearance. "Lancelot is taking her to the fort." Rhyne nodded. She walked ignored their looks and started to walk over towards their ship. Tristan walked after her. "Rhyne. Rhyne. What are you doing?" She didn't answer, just looked over to her destination. She boarded the ship. Hawk and Tristan followed her. Rhyne set Titan down before walking over to the door down into the cabin. It was still dripping with blood. Tristan went to pick it up. "Don't touch it." She disappeared for a moment then came back with a torch in her hand and an oil lamp in the other. "Hold this." She handed him the torch and set the oil lamp next to him. She picked up Titan once more.

Rhyne then sat on both her knees and sat her sword down horizontal before her. She crossed her arms before her heart and closed her eyes. She spoke with anger and rage still in her voice. "Great Mother, Lady of Peace and War, hear me. Great Father, Lord of the Living and Dead, hear me." She opened her eyes and took out a piece of charcoal tucked beneath her belt. "By the Powers of Earth, Air, Fire and Water," she drew a pentacle on the deck of the ship as she spoke, "I call on the Guardians of the Watchtower of the North. Lend me your powers to curse these people." She was silent for a moment. The other knights were gathering now. "I curse you. By the Power of all elements and all Magic, both good and evil, I curse you." She unsheathed the Dragon and held it before an exposed forearm. "With the sacrifice of the last of royal blood of the Novantae people I curse these people and their ways. May they be brought down by a sword mightier than their own and be consumed by the fire and water of our Great Mother and destined to roam the earth forever as lost souls. By this power I curse you." And she cut into the skin of her forearm. Rhyne didn't flinch. She let the blood run down to her palm, and then made a handprint in the middle of the pentacle. "By my blood I sanctify this curse," then she drew a circle around the pentacle. And picked up Titan and stabbed it into the center of the pentacle. "And by the blood of my enemies." She crossed her arms across her heart once more. "I pray you my Lord and Lady, hear me."

Rhyne felt a surge of power flow through her as she finished the curse. They had heard her. The knights felt something as well. Not the power that Rhyne did, but something different. Rage and malice. None of them had seen a curse performed before them, and one done in such hate made them queasy, especially Arthur. He had never seen so much hatred flow through someone as it did Rhyne on this day.

Rhyne stood and finally wiped the blood from Titan before sheathing it at her back. She took the oil lamp and threw it upon the pentacle. Then she took the torch from Tristan's hand and tossed it upon the oil. It burst into flames. Rhyne stood there, watching it for a moment then finally got off the ship. As soon as their feet hit the beach the ship started to drift out to sea. It was as if the Goddess was still at Rhyne's side and she sent the ship easy, back to its now cursed people.

Rhyne watched until the ship fall out of sight and then knelt to the water to clean away the blood covering her. She got her face mostly rinsed when she stood and turned towards the knights. They did not know what to say. Rhyne saw Zyfer roaming the dead bodies and started to walk to him. Arthur followed her.

"You should not have done that. There are innocents among the people you just cursed."

"Then the innocents will be saved." She did not look back at him.

"How will your Goddess know the difference?"

"She will know."

"How can you be certain?"

"Because I can."

"What you just did was wrong, Rhyne. We have all lost loved ones. And never have we ever cursed our enemy."

"There is a first for everything isn't there." She walked away and refused to look at him.

"Look at me!" He grabbed her arm and wiped her around. He could still feel the power in her touch. It had not yet left her. "I understand yo-" but he was cut off.

"Understand? How could you? Yes, you lost both parents at a young age, as did I. You have lost many brothers, and so have I. But, never—**_never_**, have you lost a child. So do not tell me you understand!" She ripped her arm from his grip.

"Wait!" He tried to stop her from mounting her horse, put she pushed against him, causing him to fall because of the supernatural power that still raged in her.

"Rhyne wait!" Gawain yelled after her. "We must burn all the bodies."

She turned her horse. "Leave them! They deserve to roam the spirit world forever!" And she heeled Zyfer back towards the fort, with Hawk beside her.

* * *

What did you think? It took me a whole day to write this chapter, and then I had to rewrite the battle a little becasue I forgot to add in Hawk. I have been waiting and waiting to write that curse. Did you like it? Do you like that side of Rhyne?


	11. Healers

**_Disclaimer: same as before…the spell that Rhyne casts I wrote myself. I have been reading about the Druid religion for a few years now, and know a lot. I am not one myself, but I am fascinated by their ways. I know they write their own spells, and I hope I did a healing spell of this sort justice. Hope you like it, and sorry it took so long…had essays to write. _**

**_Tracy137: I wouldn't kill her, think about what that would do to Lancelot…poor guy, he is at my mercy now. I guess there would be some traits that are mine that I gave to Rhyne. But more than anything, she is what I want to be like. She is definitely stronger than me, and wiser, and she has a knight. I really wish I had one of those…especially the one she has…or Lancelot…or Gawain. And I was sad when I read your next chapter, I even cried. Poor Gawain. Well, I'm introducing a character in this chapter that he'll like. _**

**_Countess Jackman: I don't think I ever want to get on your bad side. Everyone watch out for the spoons! After I wrote that battle scene I felt less stressed. I have this professor in my LIT class that is driving me crazy. I should try and picture her as the one Hawk chews the face up, that would be nice…hehe. _**

**_Camreyn: I'm glad you think Rhyne was scary, I think I could have made it better, but the next battle scene will be. Now that I have written one, the next will be great. I am excited to get to that point now, to the next battle scene, but it won't be for a little while. _**

**_Emo-Kitty: I did realize I was using modern slang, and I will try to stop myself from now on, it is better this chapter though. And my next battle scene will be better. Now that I know where my weaknesses are, they will only get better. And I know Rhyne does not show much sadness, but only her crazed rage, but that is for a reason, one you will find out in this chapter. She does not deal with emotion, other than laughing, very well. _**

Justice Will Rhyne

Chapter Eleven-Healers

Rhyne galloped all the way back to the fort. They opened the gate for her and a soldier walked up to her. "Where is she?" Rhyne asked while dismounting Zyfer.

"Come. This way." He led her out of the main courtyard and down a long corridor. He stopped in front of a room with a closed door. Rhyne opened it immediately. Sparrow was lying on the bed and two healers were cleaning her wounds. Rhyne pushed through them to check her daughter's wounds herself. The two other women protested.

"Hey, what are you doing?"

"I'm making sure you know what you're doing." Rhyne never looked at her.

"How do we know you know what you're doing?"

"Girl, I have been a Druid Priestess for seven years now. I was taught healing by a very powerful Shaman. I know what I'm doing more than you ever will." The two girls were silent after that. They backed away slightly realizing there was a witch in their presence. Rhyne continued to look over her daughter's wounds. There were two pieces of cloth covering her private areas. The long slice across her side had broken a rib, and the gash on her leg was very deep. "She needs St. John's Wort compresses, right away before the wounds are stitched up. And bring things in here to make a garlic paste." The girls just stared at her for a moment. Rhyne looked up at them. "GO." They finally moved. Hawk nudged Rhyne's ear. "I don't know Little Brother. She is already in the fever," she said moving her fingers about Sparrow's wounds.

"How is she?" Rhyne turned around to the voice. She didn't realize Lancelot had been in the room. Rhyne looked back at Sparrow. She winced in her sleep, and struggled. All the muscles in her body tensed. At times her hands grasped the linens of the bed. "It looks like she's in a lot of pain."

"That is good." Lancelot gave her shocked face. "Pain has been a long friend of mine. It bites at your soul willing you to fight against death. If it was not for pain, I would already be dead." Lancelot nodded at her explanation and wandered what she has possibly been through to make a statement of that sort.

The two other healers came back in not long after that. They brought in three large compresses. "Good. Now, we must wrap one around her thigh, and around her high waist to cover this other wound." They did. Sparrow started to struggle a little more. "It's okay. That's normal. It may be painful, but it will help her heal faster." Rhyne thought. "Do you have any chamomile herbs?" One of the girls nodded. "That may control her fever." The girl ran out again without order. Rhyne went right to work in making the paste above the fire. It was soon ready and the compresses were ready to come off. The girl came back in again with a little bowl of chamomile herbs.

"Good. Heat some water and throw that whole thing in." The girl did as she was told. "Okay we got to get these things off her." The second girl helped her, and then Rhyne began to apply the paste. She waited for it to absorb into Sparrow's skin and wound, and then wiped off the excess. The chamomile water was ready by then and she set a soaked cloth on Sparrow's forehead and chest. "Do either of you know how to stitch well?" One girl nodded. "Okay, you do her small wounds that must be stitched, and I will do these other two." The girl went straight to work.

Rhyne realized she still had her armor on. "Lancelot, help me with this." He helped her take it off as quick as possible, then she began stitching. While Rhyne was tying off the first wound the other knights arrived.

Dagonet knelt beside Rhyne. "Can I help you with anything?"

Rhyne thought for a moment. She nodded. "Can you re-soak those cloths in the water over the fire?" Dagonet did as she asked. All of Sparrow's other wounds were stitched except for the thigh gash Rhyne was working on.

"What's that smell?" Gawain asked noticing the not so pleasant smell in the room.

"Garlic," Rhyne answered simply. "It smells bad, but it is the strongest healer on earth, that is not magkical of course."

"Will she live?" Arthur asked. Rhyne looked at him a moment. He was still angry about what she did on the ship. _Of course he would be. He's Christian. They do not have the same beliefs as we do, _Rhyne thought to herself.

"Only time will tell. She will have to fight. There is not much else I or any other healer could do. She is on her own now," as she finished tying off the last stitch on Sparrow's thigh gash.

"You said something about magick?" Lancelot said curiously.

Rhyne wondered what he was thinking. "Yes. I could perform a spell, but it would take time and I need certain things."

"What things?"

"Things that I probably would not find here. Clover, eucalyptus, hyssop, rosemary."

"We have those things," one of the girls said. "Mother always burns eucalyptus and takes bathes of rosemary. I have seen clover in the fields. I am not sure about hyssop, but I am sure we have it."

Rhyne was surprised, and thought for a moment. "What is your name?"

"Jamari," the black-haired, older and taller haired girl answered. "And this is Jarrah, my younger sister by two years." She said pointing to the other girl who was a little shorter and brown hair. "And I am 20 summers."

"If I give you two a list, can you bring me those things, as quickly as possible?" Rhyne asked. Jamari nodded enthusiastically. Rhyne immediately started to write a list of things she would need.

Arthur protested. "You can't be serious. The Lord Marshall will never allow this."

"Then he doesn't have to know." Rhyne never looked up from the parchment she was writing on.

"Rhyne, first the curse, and now this. You are out of control!"

"This is my faith, Arthur. I respect yours, so you will respect mine." She stopped writing and handed the parchment to Jamari. "This is what I need. And I'm going to send someone with you to help. Little Brother." He trotted over to Rhyne's side. "This is Hawk, he is a wolf. He will help you with any resistance." Jamari nodded once more. Rhyne looked down to Hawk. "You will help them get everything I need for the spell. If they run into resistance take care of it." The wolf nodded and followed Jamari and Jarrah out the door. "Does anyone have Sparrow's swords?" Rhyne asked.

"Yes." Tristan came forward and handed her the swords. She took them and set them on the bed next to her daughter.

"Tristan, there is something else I need you to do. I need my saddlebags from Zyfer." He nodded and walked out the door. Rhyne stood thinking for a moment. _That should be everything. Except…_ "Okay, I need you all to exit so I can prepare. You can't be here for the casting, unless you were Druids, but your not." They all gave her their goodbyes and good luck's, except for Arthur. He walked out of the room abruptly. Rhyne grabbed Lancelot's arm. "Not you. You stay. There is something I need you to do. It will be a stronger spell."

"What can I do?" Lancelot asked anxiously. Rhyne could see his pain. She could tell that he truly loved her daughter. His face was almost pale, eyes were grey with anguish and his shoulders were lowered in a sulk. As for herself, she needed to wait. Emotion and powerful magick don't mix. She had learned that the hard way a few years ago, when trying to save Gareth. Her tears would have to wait.

Rhyne shut the door. "I need to do a Blood Mixing. It will forever connect the hearts and souls of you and Sparrow. It may bring her back." Lancelot nodded without hesitation. She helped him out of his armor, and Tristan walked in with her saddlebags. "Thank you," as she took them from him. He noticed there were cuts on her arms, one that needed to be stitched.

"You're hurt," he said looking to the cut just below her shoulder.

"It can wait. I must do this." Rhyne had a strong tone in her voice, but Tristan could see her despair. It was her eyes that gave everything away. They were so much a like, but so different at the same time. Tristan nodded. He squeezed her hand in support and she gave a fake smile. He walked out, to where the other knights were gathering, waiting for Rhyne's spell to be done.

Jamari and Jarrah came back with everything she needed. "Hawk had to force a few people to give it up, but other than that, it was fine." Rhyne went through everything. Freshly picked clover that needed to be crushed, Eucalyptus that she could burn, Hyssop to waken the Dragon energies and Rosemary to cleanse. She took out the small half filled water skin that contained water from a Sacred Well of the healing Goddess Brigit.

"Jarrah and I both have Druid blood in us, and have had a little training. The more energy you have the stronger the spell. We can help you." Rhyne looked at them, deciphering for a moment.

She nodded. "Very well, but you do what I say when I say it." Both of the girls nodded.

Rhyne closed the door and locked it. "Lancelot, set Sparrow's swords in her hands and set them upon her chest." As he did so Rhyne prepared the rosemary. "Jamari, crush that clover." She got right to work. "Jarrah, prepare the eucalyptus so we can burn it during the spell." All were working now. After the clover was crushed Rhyne began to make a paste with it. When all was ready Rhyne cleansed her hands in the rosemary water. "All cleanse your hands as I have done." They did as they were told. "Lancelot, take a seat next to Sparrow. You may take her hand if you wish." He did take her hand. "Jarrah, light the eucalyptus." The girl did so. Rhyne knelt before the fire. "Now, girls. Kneel behind me. We are going to call forward the Goddess, the God, and Brigit. I will call forth the Guardians of the North Tower and then the Dragon. After that I will begin the spell. During that time you will repeat everything that I say. Then we will close the circle. Understood." They nodded. "Do you know how to call forth?" They nodded.

Rhyne turned towards the fire, and crossed her arms above her heart. "Great Mother," she began, and the girls joined in. "Lady of War and Peace, hear us. Great Father, Lord of the Living and Dead, hear us. Maiden Brigit, Healer of the World, hear us." Rhyne continued. "By the Powers of Earth, Air, Water, and Fire," she drew pentacle with charcoal on the ground before her. "I call on the Guardians of the Watch Tower of the North, lend us your powers so that we may save the life of this child." Rhyne drew out 'the Dragon' dagger from her back and set it on top of the pentacle she drew. She took a hand full on hyssop from a bowl next to her and she threw it in the fire. "Great Dragon, I call upon you for your help, to save my child." She brought forth the dagger and held it before her right palm. An old scar shown upon it. "I send forth the blood of my people, the last of the royal line of the Novantae, and I ask for your powers. I reopen a wound that only you and I share, as my guardian." Rhyne cut into her palm. She let the blood run for a moment, and then flicked it into the fire. She then traced over the pentacle she had drawn with her own blood. Rhyne could feel the power run through her veins as she traced the pentacle. Once again the Goddess was being kind to her and listening for the second time.

Rhyne opened the skin that held the water from a Sacred Well and rinsed the blood away from the dagger. Rhyne stood and made her way over to the bed with the dagger and clover paste in hand. "Great Mother," Rhyne started and the girls repeated her, as they were still kneeling before the fire. "Guardian of my Blood…rid this child of all evil that runs through her veins...By the Power of all Elements…I ask this of you... save her." Rhyne drew a pentacle of the clover paste on Sparrow's forehead. "Earth, Air, Fire, Water…Earth, Air, Fire, Water." Jamari and Jarrah kept repeating the chant while Rhyne went on. "May the Sacred Waters of Maiden Brigit heal your wounds," and she poured the water over each wound. All could hear it sizzle as it touched the skin.

Rhyne now took one of Sparrow's hands and one of Lancelot's into both of her hands. "Love runs through each vein of your hearts, but now, your love shall run through each hole and chasm of your souls." Rhyne drew out her dagger, and held Sparrow's hand before her. "Great Mother, take her blood and make her an arrow." She cut into her daughter's hand and then moved to Lancelot's "Great Father, take his blood and make him the prey." Rhyne cut into his hand. Lancelot winced slightly.

Rhyne walked over and set the dagger back on top of the pentacle, with the blood stains still present. Jamari and Jarrah were still chanting. "Great Ones, take this blood and make them one." Rhyne went back over to Lancelot and Sparrow. She took their hands in hers once more. "May the Guardians of this world watch over you. For all eternity your two souls are one, from this point on, your Blood is Mixed." Rhyne set Lancelot's sliced hand on top of Sparrow's. Their two bloods now ran as one, forever.

Rhyne knelt once more before the fire. The chanting of the girls stopped. "Great Ones," the three of them said together, "We pray you, hear our plea. Save this child and connect these souls. We now release the circle of our Great Power." Rhyne took the bowl of Rosemary water and poured the rest over the pentacle and bloodied dagger. The blood and charcoal of the pentacle rinsed away. Rhyne could feel the power within her diminish as the gods left them once more.

Rhyne turned to Jamari and Jarrah, who were pale and looked winded. "It is normal after you perform a powerful spell. Burn some pine and breath it in slowly, it will bring you back to balance. Thank you Jamari and Jarrah for your help." They nodded to her, for that was all they could manage.

Rhyne looked back to Lancelot. He was still holding Sparrow's hand. "Do you want me to finish wrapping around her wounds? They still need cloth around them."

Lancelot shook his head. "I will do it."

"Speak to her. Your souls are connected now. She will hear you." With that Rhyne exited the room, taking her saddle bags and armor with her. The knights were sitting in the courtyard to her left. Tristan was standing away from the group leaning up against the wall of the corridor. Hawk was sitting beside him. He had saw her exit the room and walked over. "It is done Little Brother." The rest of the knights began walking over, questions about to bombard her. She spoke before they did. "Leave them for a while, until all powers diminish. If you walk in it will disturb the process." With that she left, walking off to the direction of her room, with Hawk at her heels.

* * *

I know it feels like the same scene with the curse, but I had to put the spell in, mostly for the Mixing Bloods. Sorry if it was a little slow-like, but these things just needed to get out. And **Tracy137**, I know the Mixing Bloods is like 'the tie that binds' that you use. Hope you are not too mad...


	12. Binded Souls

**_Diclaimer: same as before…the description of the Spirit Realm and how it works is much like what I have read in many Druid books. Hopefully it is accurate enough. _**

**_Tracy 137: I just had to make sure that you knew I was not trying to copy your idea. I know there is a lot of different soul binding 'things', but I just didn't want to say nothing in case of…I don't know. I said that just in case. And I just read your next chapter…great. I love how he is horrified by changing the children. I was trying so hard not to laugh out loud because my two roommates were sleeping. I loved it. _**

**_Lucillaq: I know most Druids are not open about their faith, though they are proud to be who they are they do not flaunt it. This is a very important and dramatic time for her because she is about to loose her daughter. I don't think she cares if she gets hung…she just wants her daughter to live. _**

**_Countess Jackman: You will have to let me know about where you read that. I never knew it was real. It just popped into my head as I was reading the chapter. _**

**_Camreyn: I have read a lot on the Wiccan/Druid religion. It has been an interest of mine for almost two years now. I began to write a story that I want to get published some day, and my lead character is a witch. So I needed to do a lot of research. When I was writing these last two chapters, and this one, I had my "Druid Magic" book opened right next to me. And thank you a million…your review inspired part of this chapter. And the father is not Gareth. _**

**_Babaksmiles: I know how it is to want to keep reading a story that already has lot of chapters…and you don't want to get away from the screen. I have been like that since I discovered this website. I am glad you like my story enough to do that. And those spells took me hours to write. Thanks. _**

_**Sorry these last few chapters came a little slow…I have my finals coming up, so it might be like this for a the next few weeks. Just bare with me…I will not abandon you. **_

_**And I know Arthur seems really crazy right now. But I really wanted to show his transformation. He has so much faith in Rome and his faith. He has not begun to question it yet. He will get better…I promise. **_

Justice Will Rhyne

Chapter Twelve-Binded Souls

When Tristan entered the room Rhyne was sitting on the edge of her bed with her back facing the door. Her saddlebags and armor was sitting right in the walkway, as if she just dropped them when she entered. Hawk was sitting at her feet, looking up at her. By the way her looked Tristan could tell something was wrong. "Rhyne," he said softly. She didn't answer him, nor did she move.

Tristan had things in his hands to clean and stitch her wounds, and set them down on the small table next to her bed. Hawk moved aside and let Tristan take his place kneeling before her. He had already taken off his armor, cleaned up and put on clean clothes. He put his hands on her thighs. "Rhyne." She didn't answer again. Her head was down and shoulders were slouched. Her eyes were focused on the floor. It was as if Rhyne was looking right through him. She still wore her bloodied clothes. Some wounds were still bleeding slowly. The deep slice on her shoulder dripped down to her elbow. There were still slight blood streaks on her face and her hair was caked with red.

Tristan moved his hand to her cheek. "Rhyne, can you hear me?" She finally stirred and looked at him, surprised to see him there.

Rhyne finally broke down. "It's my fault Tristan. She's going to die, and it's my fault. Just as it was with so many others." Tears started running down her cheeks. "It is never my fate. It is never my time to die. Why? Why is it so many others, and never mine!" Her voice was hysterical now. She got to her feet. "Why do I have to be punished so? What have I done in this life to deserve all this despair!"

Tristan hugged her to him. She struggled against him. "It's not your fault! Never has it been your fault!" Rhyne still tried to push from his grip.

"You know nothing! How could know!" Her voice filled with fury.

Tristan tightened his grip around her as she did everything she could to try and get away. "Because I know you Rhyne! You would never wish death for others!"

"You saw Tristan! You saw me curse them! I want death for them! Arthur's right, I'm a monster! Let me go!"

"You are not a monster! The Saxons are! They deserve what you did to them!"

Rhyne elbowed him in the ribs but he still would not let her go. "Get away from me! You have seen what I am! A monster, nothing more!" She used all the strength she had in her body and pushed him away from her. Tristan hit the wall behind him. They both were breathing hard. "I am monster." She turned away from him and fell to her knees. Tristan knelt by her side and threw his arms around her again. "Get away from me. I am a monster. I don't deserve you." Her voice was in despair. She tried to push him away but had no more strength.

He said softly in her ear. "Is that what you think? That because of what you did today, I will not love you?"

"How could you love a monster?" Rhyne didn't look at him, she couldn't. She was afraid he would agree.

"What you did today, I would have done the same. Any of us would. You almost lost your only child, and still may lose her. Arthur said that because he does not believe in hate. But you have been through too much suffering not to."

"I saw your eyes after everything. All of you were scared of me. If not monster, then what? What have I turned myself into?"

"You are a mother. A mother who has the curse of war."

"Please leave me alone. I deserve nothing." She slightly pushed against him, but all her strength had diminished.

Tristan squeezed her tighter. "You deserve everything." He hesitated for a moment. _Is this the right time…Yes, better then any… _"I love you." She stopped breathing, and so did he. "I have loved you for fourteen years."

"Why? I do not deserve such a love."

"You deserve better, much better than I."

Rhyne finally looked at him. "There is no one I would rather love." They stared at each other for a moment; they stared into each other's souls. The two warriors whose fates were now one. "What am I going to do Tristan? If she dies, I die as well." Rhyne through her arms around his neck and started sobbing. "She can't die."

Tristan rubbed her back comfortingly and whispered into her ear. "She is strong, like you. She will not give in." They stayed that way until Rhyne's crying stopped. "You have to let me clean your wounds." He sat her on the bed and cleaned and stitched the wounds on her arms. Then he helped bathe her. She was an emotional wreck. Everything from the past fourteen years was now taking its toll. After she was dried he wrapped the wounds that needed it, including the two that were self inflicted. He combed and braided her hair for her.

When she was ready for bed Tristan picked her up in his arms and he lay down with Rhyne wrapped in his arms. They laid there, for what seemed like hours, and neither spoke. When Rhyne finally felt sleep taking her she whispered to him. "I love you, Tristan." He pulled her closer to him. "I know." She gave a little smile and drifted off into dreams...

* * *

Lancelot struggled against exhaustion. He still held Sparrow's hand in his. She had finally stopped struggling, and was now deep in an unconscious fever. He would not let sleep conquer him. He had to stay awake, so he could be there if she needed anything. He had not let go of her hand since Rhyne had mixed their blood. Lancelot did not understand everything she had done, but knew one thing for sure. Sparrow and he were now connected, if they weren't before. For all eternity their souls will never drift apart, and they will always be by each other's side.

But it was strange. Before Rhyne completed the ritual they had already felt that way. Why else would there be a fire each time they touched? When they kissed, every thing around them became black, and they were each other's world. He loved that feeling. Since the first time she put his hand on hers he could not keep anyway from her. He longed for her touch, every second of everyday.

As Lancelot held her hand these last few hours he could feel that fire diminishing, slowly, but still diminishing. Her fever was slowly rising, and every now and then he would check her wounds, make sure they were not pulling. The gashes on her high ribs and thigh were still bleeding slightly, but mostly stopped. But the fire in her touch was what he was worried about. He knew her wounds would heal eventually, but that would not matter if she never woke up from her fever. He kept the rag on her forehead soaked in chamomile, and he traced a pentacle over her heart with the clover paste. He was not sure if it would help, but what would it matter.

Just then Lancelot remembered a necklace she wore. He reached over to wear her clothes were piled, without letting loose of her hand. It laid there. He picked it up and clasped it around her neck. It did not hang very low, just below her collarbone. It was a talisman, about the size of Rhyne's that she got from her father. Except Sparrow's was of British making, not Sarmatian. It had an encircled pentacle at the middle, surrounded by words that were engraved in a language he did not know. Tears were falling from her eyes, and he wiped them clean.

As he sat there, looking her over and he saw a few tattoos he had not yet noticed. There was the Sarmatian styled Dragon on her shoulder, the same shoulder as her mother's, but Rhyne's dragon was different. Her dragon was British, a symbol of the Druids. The one on Sparrow's shoulder was the Dragon of her grandfather's tribe, the Massagentae. Lancelot was almost convinced her father could not have been Sarmatian, but the same blood still ran through her veins. No matter how small, it was still there. But he had known of this one, it was hard to miss. It was the others he had not noticed before. On one forearm she there were words stretching from elbow to wrist. It looked like the same language as on her talisman. And the last was a symbol behind her ear that he did not know. Some sort of rune. It instantly reminded him of the tattoos Tristan wore on his cheeks. Lancelot leaned over her body and she wore the same symbol under her other ear. He would have to ask her what they mean. _I don't even know what Tristan's tattoos mean._

He realized then that his head was lying upon the linens, and before he could stop himself he fall to sleep…

Lancelot found him self in a forest. He didn't recognize it. The sun was shining and the air was warm. Everything around him was green. There was a little breeze rustling through the trees. He could hear water gurgling close by; it must be a river or stream. There was a small stone made house seating in front of him, along with an area for an iron worker.

By instinct Lancelot reached for his swords behind him, but they were not there. He looked down, and had no armor. He was in a simple tunic and trousers. "Bloody Hell." At that moment the door to the house swung open and Lancelot dove behind the closest tree. A woman walked out and went behind the house. After a few moments she came back leading a horse by rope and tied the stallion to a tree, and then proceeding to groom him.

Lancelot watched her for a few moments, trying to get a good look at her face. When she finally came around the other side of the horse he stopped breathing, stopped moving. It was his Sparrow, but she was different. She was wearing a simple white wool gown. All her hair was plaited up around her shoulders. It was not long like it is suppose to be. And he noticed the dragon on her shoulder was not there, nor the symbols below her ears. He began to inch forward but slipped on a branch and fell to the ground. Sparrow turned in his direction. She was shocked to see him.

"Lancelot? Are you real?" Her back was against the horse.

"Just as real as you I suppose. Where are we?" He stood to his feet but did not step closer.

"Somewhere in the Spirit World, not in death but not the real either. It is where the dead walk until they are put to peace."

"But you are not dead." Lancelot protested.

"No, but I am close."

He started to walk closer. "Then you have to fight it."

"You cannot fight fate. A great Shaman told me that it was my fate to join that skirmish. Whether is it my time to die, or keep living he did not say. But what ever my fate it will bring you all closer to yours."

"But that's not fair. We were just starting something."

"Nothing ever is fair." Sparrow put her head down a moment and remembered something. "Why are you here? I know why I am, but why you?"

"Look at your palm." She did, and was surprised. "Rhyne did a Blood Mixing, following a healing spell." Sparrow did not look up from her hand and still held shocked eyes. "What? Is that such a shock?" Sparrow shook her head. "Then what?" Lancelot looked down at his own hand. The cut was no longer new, but had the appearance of an old scar. _But she just did the spell merely hours ago? _"Why is this a scar? It should be a new cut."

Sparrow's eyes wondered. "Mother was right."

Lancelot was totally confused now. "Right about what?"

Sparrow looked up at him. "I asked her about why we feel fire in our touch. She told me that is was possible that we loved each other in another life, one that is before this time. This scar," she looked down at is once more. "This scar proves that."

"How? How does it prove that?"

"By the fact that it is a scar. It proves that our blood was mixed long before the lifetime we are living now, and it explains why you are here, and why these scars are here and nothing else." Lancelot could not handle that much information. Sparrow saw his struggle. "Look, where we are is part of the Spirit Realm, but also part of our souls. This is not that first time our soul has lived, it has had many lives before this one. That is why I have none of my tattoos or scars. Look at yourself, your skin is perfect. No scars from almost fifteen years of service."

Lancelot looked at where some scars were supposed to stand. There were none. "Then why do we still have this one?" showing her his palm.

"Now that is the right question. This is the proof I spoke of. We wear these scars because our souls are connected, not only because mother just did the Blood Mixing, but in every lifetime we live together, our souls find one another. We have loved before."

It was a lot for Lancelot to handle. As a Sarmatian he grew up learning many things about life and death. The only one he ever cared about or truly believed was what his father told him the moment Rome took him away. 'There is a legend that fallen knights come back as great horses. He has seen what awaits you, and he will protect you'. And it had comforted him over the years, watching so many other brother knights die before his eyes. All for a cause that was never their own.

Lancelot looked at their surroundings. "And why are we here?"

Sparrow looked around her as well. "This is where I grew up. Where mother gave birth to me. We lived with a Druid Shaman and his daughter. This is where Hawk led her when she was in the forest. Far in the North. You would not recognize it."

"But why here? Why not the fort?"

"You are the one in my mind. I am the one about to die. You came to me, not other way around."

They were silent for a moment. Lancelot did not know what to say to someone he loved who might die, as much as he loved her. Knowing they had been together in more than one other life, it was comforting, but also sad. He knew they would meet again if she died, but if did not remember his other life's that would not matter. It would be a different 'Lancelot' who would love her. The same soul, but a different man. "You can't die on me. You have to fight."

"Like I said before, you can not fight against fate." Lancelot became angry, but mournful at the same time. If she dies, he will die…

* * *

Tristan woke with only a few hours of sleep. He felt Rhyne shift in his arms. She tightened her grip in the bit of his tunic she held in one of her hands. He could still not believe he was holding her in his arms. He thought the next time they were to meet would be in the next life, as she promised them all when they saw her getting pulled away in the wagon.

That seemed like only yesterday, and now, fourteen years later. Her daughter lies dying, and she suffers from terrifying dreams. Sparrow had told Tristan the other day that they should expect another nightmare soon…

Rhyne was embarrassing Galahad horribly because she had better knife throwing skills than he. She sat trying to teach him to hit another knife on the hilt, as only she and Tristan could do.

Tristan sat next to Sparrow on top one of the Tavern tables. Night had not yet reached them. They were the only ones in the Tavern, besides the few cooks and barmaids. Vanora stood cleaning mugs watching as Galahad scowled every time he threw the knife because he could not get the technique. She chuckled a little more each time.

Tristan sat slicing his apple. Sparrow figured it had to be his favorite food. He ate it all the time, not that it's bad for, just unusual. The other knights all favored whiskey or wine, not something that grew on a tree. He cut another piece and motioned it towards her. Sparrow took it gratefully, nodded her thanks.

Tristan had realized over the almost two weeks how different, but how alike her and Rhyne really were. Rhyne just takes, and Sparrow waits for the offer. The mother was the defiant rebel, and the daughter was the dubious follower. But they are both deadly with a sword in their hand, well, in Sparrow's case two swords.

The other thing he realized was that they were easily content with silence, and hate showing any emotion, other than laughter. They both insulted and poked fun just as much as Lancelot, and would do more than just smirk like he did. Tristan adored Rhyne's laugh. It's hard not to smile at her laugh, it is very contagious. No one ever made him change his emotion like she did. When she was happy, he was. Angry, he was. Sad, he was. When he realized this, it was at that moment he knew he loved her, still loved her.

That was the same moment he and Sparrow talked of her dreams. "It is strange that she has not had another nightmare. She would usually have had another by now." Tristan did not say anything, just looked over to Rhyne. "As the years have gone by she would have them less and less. The past year they had been around one week or so apart." He just nodded. "Being home might have something to do with it." He still said nothing. Sparrow studied him for a moment. He eyes went in Rhyne's direction. His face was ever passive, but she saw a glint in his eye. Rhyne laughed. Tristan let a small smile cross his face. Sparrow looked ahead. "Although, it may not just be that." Tristan looked at her once more, this time questionably. "You are the one she wanted to stand next to." Sparrow kept her eyes ahead, but knew Tristan was looking at her.

When Sparrow knew his eyes were off her she looked back at him. "Don't worry about her nightmares. As long as you're there she should be okay." Sparrow patted his knee and joined her mother and Galahad. She left him there, sitting in deep thought…

That was a few nights after that he finally got the courage to approach her, and that night it rained. And here they are now, lying as they are. Rhyne shifted uncomfortably. Tristan rubbed her arm softly, and she moved closer to him. He had a feeling her dreams were starting. He hugged her tighter.

Rhyne started talking lightly in her sleep. "Father…" Tristan started to rub her harder so that she might wake up before the scream. She began to fidget a lot more in his arms. "No..please.."

Tristan backed away from her and then laid her back on the bed. He put his hand on her cheek and started to call her name. "Rhyne…Rhyne wake up." She did not stop, but kept mumbling words. "Conner…I'm sorry Conner." Tristan kept calling her name, but she began to speak louder… and thrash heavier.

After her first scream Tristan tried to shake her awake, but it still had no response to her, she was in deep. "CONNER!" Rhyne gave out a blood curdling scream, but then it stopped suddenly, and she went silent. Tristan propped her up against him. He shook her until she woke up, frightened. She shot off the bed and into the corner. She put her knees to her chest and was breathing hard. Tristan approached her slowly. "Rhyne, can you hear me?" She looked him in the eye, and eventually nodded. "Are you okay?" She nodded, but Tristan knew she wasn't. He picked her up and hugged her to him on the bed. "It's okay. You are safe now."

Suddenly, she acted as if a jolt of pain was in her stomach. Her hand went to shelter it, and her face gave a silent scream. "What, what is it?" Tristan was covered in worry. When Rhyne finally relaxed against the pain she put her head back and whispered, "Guinevere…" then dropped into a dreamless sleep.

* * *

Lancelot and Sparrow still stood in their dreams. He had just told her to keep fighting. Do not give into death. And she wouldn't. 'I can not fight fate, Lancelot. No one can.' So he sat, waiting. Waiting for her to die, to just give up. This was not the Sparrow he fell in love with. "Do not scorn me, Lancelot. I do my duty, even if that is dying. I would gladly meet death to make sure you, Arthur and the other knights meet the right fates. I know you would not let me die in vain." But she would. If she gave in, all would be lost, for everyone, not just him.

"How can you do this? Giving up. It's not like you." Lancelot protested.

"Lancelot. This is my fate-" but she could not finish. There was a rustle in the woods behind them and a young man stepped before them.

"You have much yet to learn, child." He was tall, and commanding, Dressed in British clothes. His hair was mud brown, but it was his eyes that were striking. Diamond blue gleams stared out from his chestnut skin.

"Who are you?" Lancelot asked forcefully.

The man smiled. "In this realm, we are all who we wish to be. Young, old, beautiful, or ugly. In this world you are what you're soul is, not what your person is."

They just stared him in response. Sparrow spoke up. "What do you want?"

"To give you a message." They looked at him questionably. "You are both missed, in the real world. None believe you will survive. You both must wake, so your paths may be completed. You do not belong in this realm."

"I know my fate, and that is to die to direct them on their right path." Sparrow pointed out.

"Your fate is not always spelled out before you. You are not always shown the way. Sometimes you must choose your fate before fate chooses you."

"How are we missed? I am only sleeping." Lancelot said.

The man smiled. "Because your souls are connected, she pulled you into her soul, and so into her condition. Your knights need you. The wheel of life must keep on turning."

"What do you mean?" Sparrow asked. "How can we fight this? Why is it not my time yet?"

"I can not answer that. I am not the Master of Fate, just the messenger. And the only way to fight against death is with the power of love." With that he disappeared.

They were both left speechless. There was only one thing they understood, and that was the world still needed them. "Now will you fight? Will you come back with me?" Lancelot turned to Sparrow.

"Any messenger that reached us here must be a wise one. Like he said, I still have much to learn." Sparrow held out her scarred hand to him. He was taken aback. "Only with the Power of Love can death be beaten." Lancelot suddenly understood her words. Slowly his scarred hand met hers and the Spirit Realm faded from them, and all their pain returned…

* * *

How was it? How long do you think they were unconscious? What about the 'young man'? Who was he? I think I made it obvious enough. 


	13. Blessed and Cursed

**_Disclaimer: same as before…_**

_**Tracy 137: You're right. Who else would it be? And I read your current chapters. Soooo sad. That was the last thing I expected to happen. Wow, I was crying even. And I was so excited when you had Gawain say that poem. I found that poem on a wallpaper I downloaded from a website. It was a Tristan wallpaper actually. I absolutely love that poem. And I will have a point of crying sadness, but not til the end. And it's not what you think…hopefully it will be a surprise like Lucan. **_

_**Camreyn: Well, you had a great idea, and I was kind of stuck with how to make her wake. And who Conner is will be revealed soon enough. Her past is key to the plot and why she is back at the fort. **_

_**Countess Jackman: I just love stopping chapters like that, because as a reader that makes me excited for more, but I hate when people do that to me, so I do it to you. Heehee. And that would make sense that it would be in an Anne Rice book. I really want to read the Vampire Chronicles…but I have to read a million other books first that I have lined up before those. I read too much and sometimes mix things up too. **_

**_Lucillaq: Everything will be revealed eventually. Some sooner than others. What she is not saying about her past is key to the plot and climax of the story. It will be revealed shortly. We are almost into the movie. _**

_**Sweet-Mage: I thank you for honesty. I want to do everything possible to make it as enjoyable as possible. Glad you like it so far.**_

**_Sorry this chapter took so long to put up. Life is crazy right now with finals and moving back to Cali from NY. I am stressing horribly. The only thing that takes it awayis writing this story or other ones, but finding the time to do it is the hard part. That next chapter will be up within the next few days. I have to finish a presentation before I start typing the next one…but don't fret…I will not abandon you. And sorry I left you hanging so badly and then took forever for the next chapter._**

_**Anyways…enough blabbing…and the story moves on…**_

Justice Will Rhyne

Chapter Thirteen- Blessed and Cursed

Rhyne awoke as the sun was lifting over the horizon. A beam of light shown into her eyes. She felt alone under the covers and opened her eyes. Tristan was up practicing movements with her sword. His was much like hers in shape, but lighter. Rhyne did not shift, but kept his eyes on him. She was mesmerized by his elegance with a sword. Rhyne had always thought of it as a thing of war, not beauty, even though she treasured her weapons and armor, everything about war is dark and despair. To him war seemed like a dance. Rhyne remembered Arthur's words. _You are right, he is a passive warrior_. Killing was ritual—it had been, for almost fifteen years.

Rhyne watched him move. The sword seemed to sing in his hand. She smiled. Tristan knew she was awake and watching him. He had heard her breathing change. "You want to know why I fight the way I do?" Rhyne was surprised he knew she was awake. Tristan looked at her. "I heard your breathing change. Then again, it was no surprise.

"Yes, I do."

"I took a liking to killing. For moments nothing else matters, except that sword in your hand. That is your whole world. I cherish those moments, and I treat them as you do the rain. It wipes away everything else around you, at least it does that for me. Every swing of my sword is a gift to Killing. That is why looks like a dance, a ritual…because it is."

Rhyne understood his reasoning, but still had no answer. "But why?"

Tristan was silent for a moment, completing a few moves before her. He still had not faced her. When it seemed like he was finished he finally looked at her. His face passive, as always, but Rhyne could see what seemed like despair in his eyes. "Shortly after you left there was an attack on the fort. Woads. I killed three. For those few moments, all I thought about was my sword. Every move and every step. For those brief moments I was not thinking of you. Every time I kill the pain of your leaving goes away. That is why I cherish it so."

Neither of them spoke. They gazed at each other for what seemed like an eternity. Time stopped as their souls stared into each other's eyes. The spell broke as the bird began to sing out the window. Tristan lifted the sword in front of him. "This is a good sword. It's lighter than mine, but just as strong. Who made it? It looks part Sarmatian."

"It is. I designed it, but a British smithy made it." He looked at the design, dragon hilt and Celtic engravings. He nodded his head. Rhyne got up from the bed. And took the sword from his hand. "I wanted it to be like me. Briton with a Sarmatian father." She set it next to all her other weapons on the table then looked back at him. "I'm so sorry. I should have returned sooner." A single tear rolled down her cheek.

Tristan wiped her tear. "It doesn't matter anymore. I have you now." He put a hand at her neck and kissed her softly. Rhyne put her arms around his neck and the kiss deepened. He groaned as she put her fingers through his hair and slipped his bottom lip between hers. He pulled Rhyne's hips to his and she whimpered into his mouth. Their breathing started to quicken when there was a knock on the door.

Rhyne looked at the door with disappointment. "Yes?"

"It's the other knight," Jamari had a desperate worry in her voice. "Lancelot, something is wrong."

Rhyne threw on a cloak and her boots and she and Tristan ran out the door. Jamari ran down the halls along side Rhyne with Tristan behind. "What's wrong with him? He didn't…hurt himself." Rhyne asked with worry.

"No." Rhyne was relieved. "Somehow he fell into a fever, just as deep as the girl." Jamari explained. They ran into the room and Lancelot was still sitting in a chair holding Sparrow's hand, but his head was lying down upon the linens, fast asleep. "I came to change her bandages and check the wounds for infection. I tried to wake him up, but he wouldn't, so I came to get you."

Rhyne out her hand over Lancelot's forehead, his skin was one fire. "Shit. I didn't think this would happen." Rhyne thought for a moment. "Jamari, Tristan, I need you to do something. We need another bed in here, but we can't get one just the three of us, so we need more hands. Begin waking up all the knights and I will change her bandages. We will get the bed in here and lay him next to her."

"Why don't we carry him to another room?" Tristan asked.

"Because if we break the connection they could both die within an hour. They must stay as they are." Tristan wondered what she meant by _connection_, but did not ask as him and Jamari went out the door to collect the knights and another bed. Rhyne looked at the couple in front of her. She never knew their souls were that much intertwined. _They must have loved another life, and already have mixed blood_. She wondered if there was a way to contact them. Rhyne knew where they were, the place she went when in fever after Sparrow's birth, the Spirit Realm. So close to dying, yet so far away. There was only one way to connect with them, if she held the power. She definitely could with a spell, but that was too dangerous because she could also get sucked in. So, she was stuck with the one option. _It may work. Mother has blessed me with the Sight, so it may work._

Rhyne walked over to them and knelt by the bed. She closed her eyes and slowly put her hand upon the two holding hands of the fevered lovers. She saw them. It came in the form of a vision, but there was a striking pain as soon as she came in contact with their skin. It was a dagger to the heart and the head at the same time. She saw Lancelot and Sparrow standing together. She could not talk to them, but knew they were there. That was all she needed.

When Rhyne finally opened her eyes she was lying on the floor. Her head was pounding with a pain she had never felt. It made her vision blur for a moment. She sat up with a groan and rubbed her temples. She tried to stand but got dizzy instantly. She tried crawling over to a chair in the corner, but there was no strength in her arms. She put her head in her hands, trying to push the pain out.

Rhyne was sitting like this when the door opened again. Jamari ran to her side. "Are you alright?" There was a commotion outside the opened door. Rhyne could see the knights having difficulty getting the other bed in the doorway. They had to turn it sideways to fit. Tristan saw Rhyne in her position and knelt beside her. "What happened?"

Rhyne grabbed his arm with still closed eyes. "Lift me up." Tristan took her arm and Jamari the other as they slowly got her to her feet. They let go, but she swayed a bit and Tristan stood behind her so she could lean back on him.

The bed was finally in the room. "Where do you want it?" Bors asked. Rhyne motioned next to where Lancelot was lying in fever. For a moment all the knights just stared at him with loss. He looked just as bad as Sparrow, but was not injured. It put a weight on their hearts. The bed was set parallel to Sparrow's. "Okay, let's get him up." Gawain said. A few knights started to grab Lancelot when there was a scream behind them.

"NO!" Rhyne looked terrified. "Don't take apart there hands. They must stay connected."

"But why?" they all asked in unison.

Rhyne's head still pulsed. "Let's take care of this, and I will explain after. Just don't take apart their hands." It was complicated for them to figure out how to lift Lancelot without breaking them apart. Here are Masters of War who were born with a sword in their hand and could not figure out how to do a simple task like this one. It took the other five knights, including Arthur, and even Jamari to move him. Rhyne would have complained, but she was too busy trying to control her pain.

Jamari began to change Sparrow's bandages as Arthur began to speak. "What's wrong with you Rhyne?" He spoke in a considerably concerned voice.

"I'll be fine, just a horrible pounding in my head." Rhyne looked over to the healer. "Jamari, make some more water with chamomile and put a soaked rag on their foreheads." The young girl nodded.

"What is wrong with him?" Galahad asked. All the knights were now looking at her.

Rhyne could still not focus on them, it hurt her eyes. The sun was coming up and the light made her head pound harder. She kept her eyes closed and leaned up against Tristan a little more. He put both arms around her waist to hold her up. "I did a Blood Mixing last night. It is a ritual that binds two souls together. I told Lancelot that it may bring her back. Two souls fighting against death is better than one. He never broke the connection of their hands last night. I knew their souls were connected, but not this much."

"What do you mean?" Arthur asked.

"Sparrow pulled him in. I have heard of that happening before, but have never seen it for myself. It means they have a connection that goes beyond mortality; it is on a higher plane. A connection that is endless and will bring them together each time their souls are reborn. It is by the powers of the Otherworld that they love. That is why Sparrow pulled him in. They will always be at each other's side, whether in fever or in death."

They were all speechless at her words, and a few even stopped breathing. Their eyes had looks of death. They could not imagine losing Lancelot. Yes, Arthur was their leader, and they would follow him to death. But it was Lancelot they looked to for final assertion. His death would kill them all. "How do we stop it?" Arthur was on verge of crying now. His best friend was lying on a bed on edge of death. They both have dodged death many times, but never has either of them been this close, not this deep.

"We can't, that is up to them. They stand together in the Spirit Realm, where the dead walk awaiting their final rites. It is up to them to come back to us. There is nothing else I or anyone else can do."

They all looked over to Lancelot and Sparrow, still holding hands. The knights were wondering what Hell they were going through, how painful it was and what they were fighting off. Rhyne only thought of where Sparrow's soul wandered in the painless realm. Tristan whispered in her ear. "Do you need to lie down?" Rhyne nodded. He put one of her arms around his head, and helped her walk out of the room. Rhyne could feel her legs going out underneath her. Tristan saw her struggle and finally just picked her up in his arms. "Where is Hawk?" Her head was resting on his shoulder.

"He is in my room. I will go get him. And would you like some food?" Rhyne nodded with a smile. They got back to her room. He laid her on the bed gently. He closed the shutters on the windows and lit a few candles. "I will be back," and he walked out of the room again.

Ten minutes later he walked in with a huge tray of food and Hawk was at his heels. "Little Brother! I missed you last night." The wolf jumped onto the bed and laid into Rhyne's lap who was sitting up. "What's with you?" Rhyne looked at Tristan who set down the food at the little table.

"I told him you weren't well." Tristan told her. "I will be back." He walked out of the room again.

Rhyne looked back down to Hawk. "Oh, Little Brother. I will be okay. It's Sparrow and Lancelot we need to worry about." He picked up his head. "Yes, they are both deep in fever now." Rhyne eyed a piece of bread on the tray, but she still could not walk. "Can you get me that bread over there Little Brother?" He got up and brought it back to her. She bit into it and then broke off a piece and gave it to him. Tristan came back in a few moments later, carrying all his things. Rhyne smiled. "Movin' in I see." He just smiled. "Oh, so I have no say in this." He shook his head. She laughed. "Little Brother, I think Tristan is trying to take advantage. We have to show him who's the head of this relationship." Hawk looked back and forth between her and Tristan. He howled. Rhyne was shocked.

"What? What does that mean?" Tristan asked.

"He wants you to stay. I'm surprised, to go against me, he must really like you." Tristan nodded his thanks to Hawk.

He brought the food over to the bed and sat next to Rhyne. "Looks like I'm the head of this relationship now," Tristan commented with a cocky tone and a grin on his face.

"Don't be conceited. Makes you look like an ass," she hit him at the same time. "Break off a piece of that cheese for me." Tristan did so but didn't hand it to her; instead he feed it to her. "Umm. A girl could get used to being waited on hand and foot."

He snorted. "Soon enough I will snap my fingers and you will be waiting on me." He snapped his fingers here and there to mock her. Hawk mumbled as if laughing.

Rhyne smacked Tristan in the back of the head. He spit out his water all over Hawk who was lying in front of him. He scrambled off the bed and started shaking off the water. Rhyne laughed hard enough to cough on the bread she just swallowed. "That what you both deserve. Try to deceive me, Ha!"

Eventually the laughing died down to just the sound of eating. Tristan looked at her and saw not a tad but of worry in her face. Her eyes were a little dull compared to their usual fire, but that was all. "Are you not worried?"

Rhyne looked in his eyes. "Not as much as you. They are both strong people. And now that she pulled Lancelot in she will not let him die, and the only way they will come back to us is together, and they will, it is just a matter of when."

"And you were worried before?"

Rhyne nodded. "I know what it is like to be in that Realm alone, you just want to give up and let death take you. It is hard to fight. But being there with another that you love, that is different."

"Did you get injured that badly before?"

She shook her head. "I fell into fever and sickness after Sparrow's birth. We both almost died."

"What is it like there?"

Rhyne laughed, and Tristan was taken aback. "A lot different than you think." She thought a moment. "It is pleasant, and calm. The sun always shines and the air is perfectly warm. And you are usually in a place that has significance in your life. I was placed in the village at the fort, where I grew up along side Arthur."

"What made you want to fight?"

"Seeing the dagger of my father. I hadn't seen it in over a year. Seeing it made me remember his death and the anger brought me back. But the Shaman always told me it was the love between my father and I, but all could feel was anger coursing through my veins. I never understood how it was love." Rhyne looked over to Tristan. His eyes were capped with concern. "Do not worry so. They will be alright. It's just a matter of time. I swear to you, they will not die."

Rhyne scooted over and leaned against him. Tristan put an arm around her and kissed the top of her head. They finished the rest of their food in silence, except for the occasional words with Hawk. Rhyne finally changed from her night clothes and put on trousers and her elbow-sleeved leather tunic. Then strapped on the Dragon and Titan, whom she went nowhere without when in a strange place. They went into the room that held the two injured. Gawain and Galahad were on watch. Jarrah was sitting with them.

"Have you seen Arthur anywhere?" Rhyne asked.

"I would try the battlements. That is where I saw him when I walked to the tavern to get some food. He was pacing. It is never good when he's pacing," Galahad said.

"No, never good. Why do you want to know?" Gawain asked, almost finishing Galahad's statement. They were more brothers than they knew. Might as well be twins.

"I need to speak with him." Rhyne said.

Galahad shook his head. "I wouldn't, he has a horrible temper."

"Worse than you? Than me?" Rhyne looked at him keenly and raised her brow.

"Well…" Gawain thought. "Maybe not that bad. But I still pass you good luck with reasoning with him. He is quite upset with the anger you have shown."

Rhyne nodded her head mockingly. "Okay, I will find him." Hawk started to follow him. "Stay here Little Brother. This is something I must do alone. Keep Tristan company." The wolf's eyes seemed to light up. Rhyne smirked as she walked out the door.

She found Arthur on the battlements, pacing, just as Galahad had said. When he finally stopped for a moment she walked up to him silently. "Do you find comfort in the wilds of the North?"

Arthur was startled by her presence. He had not heard her approach. "You walk very lightly, much like Tristan."

"Living in the forest for fourteen years can do that to a person, but you didn't answer my question."

Arthur thought a moment. "No. The only thing that comforts me is my faith."

Rhyne smiled. "As does mine, but I also find it my fellow Brothers of War. That is the curse of a warrior. That is all he has, his faith and his brothers." There was a lot of space between them, and neither moved closer.

"What about hate, do you not find comfort in that?" He asked it viciously, trying to hurt her, but it didn't, she didn't even flinch at the words.

"Occasionally," she said while crossing her arms. "Sometimes hate is all you have to keep yourself alive, your only motivation to fight."

Arthur stood stone at her explanation. He had never heard hate explained in that way. It had logic but was against his faith. What had she been through that made her think so? "Hate is a mask that blinds you from truth. It only causes more death and suffering."

"And yet, you commit it everyday." Rhyne said it simply. "Was it not hate that took you to your father's grave to pull that sword? Was it not hate that convinced you to lead these men? Is it not hate that drives you to kill each Woad you come across?"

It was a slap in the face to Arthur. "Pelagius-" but he was cut off.

"Do not lecture me in his philosophies, Arthur. I grew up learning from him just as you did." Rhyne was angry now. "How can you be angry with my actions when you have done things in the matters of hate as well?" She was still angry, but also had a pleading in her voice.

Arthur was silent. Not even he had the answer to this question. "I have just never seen so much hate as what you showed yesterday. I felt it as you sealed that curse. It was a knife in my heart. Why did you have to kill them and curse them so?" Now he was pleading.

"You will never understand until you have a child of your own to worry of. Yes, you have lost many men, and both parents as well. But none of that compares to the thought of losing a child."

"I still do not think I would show so much malice to them, even if they did deserve it. Love and forgiveness is more powerful than hate."

Rhyne laughed. "Sometimes I can not help but to laugh at the words in your Bible. All those words written monks who had no experience in having and loving a child, or even loving a wife. How could they understand love and hate without those things?"

"If hate is all we show than peace will never live, and chaos would reign."

"It is only through suffering and chaos that our dreams can be imagined, and the battle won. Without chaos, without suffering what would life be worth?" Arthur deeply contemplated the question. "Peace doesn't last forever, Arthur. There will always be hate. And that causes suffering, and then chaos follows. That is why there are people like us, to stop it."

"And if we are the ones that bring the suffering?"

Rhyne smiled softly. "We are human. None of us are divine, and none are perfect. We were blessed in the ways to feel happiness and love, but there is a curse that follows every good. Hate and malice follow love. There is Peace, and the only way to obtain that is war. As long as humans live, there will be a battlefield. It is because we are human that these things happen. I would rather live a life of little peace, and more suffering than no suffering at all."

Rhyne held a great knowledge. Arthur knew she was right. They were all human, and all made mistakes. Why else would they kill than for the reward of freedom in the end? But he wanted peace. He wanted to die happy and peaceful, not in battle covered with bloodied hate. "I will respect your beliefs Rhyne, but do not expect me to like them, all of them. Though, I do respect your wisdom in these matters."

Rhyne smiled. "Thank you, Arthur. I am sorry if I scared you, but in my heart it was right. I have lost so many others in my life, I will not willingly let go of my child."

"I hope one day I have a child, and that I may understand the way you felt." They hugged then. Brother and sister once more. "Can we try not to disagree like this again? I hated not being able to confide in someone when it should be you, or Lancelot. When you are both away from me I feel empty."

"Never again will any of us feel that way. He and Sparrow will survive. They are together, and will come back to us." He knew Rhyne never lied. When she spoke, she meant every word she said.

_**Yea, now Arthur will not be so, eww to Rhyne. This is when his trust in his Rome and faith begins to slowly falter, and then the movie comes. Did you like it?**_


	14. Awaken

**_Disclaimer: I don't own the knights, but I wish I did. I only own the new characters…and you know who I'm talking about. I use an Enya Song in this chapter. It is "I may not Awaken". Beautiful song…just thought it was appropriate. _**

**_Tracy 137: The only reason I know that kind of philosophy or even have an opinion in that sort of thing is because I watch so many movies and read so many books that deal with those things, and in this and the medieval times. I love what you are doing in Bethan & Lucen. I loved the latest chapter with just Tris and San. I was actually missing the interaction between them. And he blushed! It was soo adorable. And the chapter before was very emotional…and the mist at the end. Mine will be sad eventually, at one point, I just haven't got there yet. I loved it. I hope you are feeling better and the tests were okay. Get Well…_**

**_Lucillaq: I will put more of Pelagius teachings in the story for Rhyne and Arthur to discuss. I just decided to put that in last minute and did not feel like doing hours of research to put one line in there of his thinking…but I will eventually. And more of her past will came each chapter. A little more comes in this chapter…and a very important part of it. I love your latest story Black Cloak…it's very good. I love Sienna and Tris relationship. The coming events are going to be interesting…_**

**_Cameryn: I think Merlin was right as well, but that just shows that Rhyne still has to learn some things. I made sure she emphasized that so people would know that she still had things to learn. I want her to be aware of things that Arthur and his Knights do not understand know because of her suffering and training as a witch…but I do not want her to be all knowing. She will learn that eventually. I glad you liked that conversation that Rhyne and Tris had at the beginning…it took me a while to write. I wanted it to sound very believable and that is was a good reason for him to fight the way he does. And maybe I am just blind…but do you have any stories. I have not seen any. Tell me, I want to read them. _**

**_Sweet-Mage: I am glad you are being honest. Don't be afraid to be as blunt as possible. I need to get used to it because I want to publish my own story one day. Sorry if it is so boring and slow right now, but these are just things that I need to get out and will set up the rest of the story. It is going to pick up with the next chapter after this one. And we are coming into the movie, with in the next few chapters…so bare with me…I got plans that will end it in a bang…hopefully. And I'm glad you liked when Rhyne slapped Tris. Humor is harder to write than it looks._**

_**Sorry this chapter took so long everyone…I only have week and a half left in my Frosh year in college and it is crazy. I am just so busy. But after that I am going to by just popping the chapters out on after the other. So bare with me. And the story is going to start picking up…on with the story. **_

Justice Will Rhyne

Chapter Fourteen-Awaken

Sparrow and Lancelot tightened their grip as the wave of pain returned. Their bodies were pounding and skin was on fire. It was excruciating. "Don't let go Lancelot! What ever you do, don't let go!" There was a faint sound of singing in the distance. It got louder and louder as the seconds wore on. Sparrow recognized the words and started to sing along. After a few lines she yelled, "Open your eyes! Try to open them!"

The pain suddenly ceased. There was a massive soreness that filled all their muscles. The singing had still not stopped, but it was now no longer a dream, now it was right in front of them…

* * *

The days passed slowly as Sparrow and Lancelot lay in fever. The knights watched over them in pairs at different shifts. They were never left alone in case anything would happen. Their fevers peaked five days in, and then started to slowly lower. Jamari and Jarrah joined the shifts as well, constantly changing Sparrow's bandages. Her wounds were still bad, and bleeding slightly, but healing ever so slowly. Every once in a while some would think they were waking because they would speak a few words out loud. Lancelot would mutter the word 'fight' often, and said Sparrow's name a few times as well.

There was a time when Rhyne even thought they were about to wake. It was the middle of the night on the fifth day. Her head was resting on Tristan's shoulder. She was awoken by the words of Sparrow. "My fate…" and then she trailed off. Lancelot shifted slightly. "give up…" and then he trailed off. Rhyne looked at them awkwardly. She was about to wake Tristan was his eyes were already open, looking at the two in fever.

Lancelot spoke again. "fate…" Rhyne and Tristan saw this as an indicator to stand. Rhyne walked to her daughter's side and Tristan to Lancelot's. They both started to say each of their names. "Sparrow…Sparrow, can you hear me?"

Lancelot shifted again. "Choose…" Tristan tried shaking Lancelot's shoulders a bit, but her still did not wake. They stood over them for a few more moments waiting. But there were no more words. The sun was just beginning to light up the sky and veil the stars away. Arthur walked in with them still standing.

"Is something wrong?" he asked somewhat worried.

"No." Tristan said looking at him. Arthur was relieved and let out his breath.

"They were just talking in their fever. More than I had seen so far." Rhyne explained.

Arthur stood next to her. "Are you sure they will pull through?"

"Well, their fever is lowering finally. I would think so. A few more days yet, but they should wake."

Arthur nodded. "I will relieve you two. Get some sleep."

Two more days went by. The two young healers were taking a liking to the knights. The time they would not spend watching over Sparrow and Lancelot they spent with the knights in the tavern and watching them on the training field. There was not mush else to do at the fort. They had no duties there, but were just waiting for Lancelot and Sparrow to wake and then with a wagon in tow, they would make their trek back to their own fort. Rhyne had noticed the sisters took especial liking to Gawain and Galahad. It was expected. Two sisters drawn to two knights that might as well be twins.

On the morning of the seventh day Rhyne and Tristan walked in the room for their shift when they paused at what they saw. Galahad was so drunk last night that he could not accompany Gawain on their shift. Jamari volunteered to take Galahad's place, and Gawain happily agreed. Rhyne was a little suspicious at the reasons, but was smart enough to make an educated guess.

They had both dosed off last night. Gawain and Jamari were sitting against the far wall. Gawain had an arm around her shoulders and her head was resting on his shoulder and hand set on his chest. They were sleeping soundly. Rhyne chuckled a little and quickly clapped her hand over her mouth to stop from making any other noise. They each stirred a little, but did not wake. Rhyne looked down at Hawk and thought of a wicked idea. She knelt down and whispered into his ear.

Rhyne stood back up as the wolf started to make his way over to the sleeping pair. "What is he doing?" Tristan whispered. Rhyne held up her finger to him, motioning for him to wait. Hawk sat down in front of the two and lifted his head into a loud booming howl for the small room. Gawain shot up in an instant. Jamari hit her head on the wall and yelped in pain. Gawain was shuffling around looking for a weapon while trying to focus his sleepy eyes.

Rhyne started laughing hysterically, no longer being able to stay silent. Tristan leaned against the open door shaking his head at the scene. Gawain noticed Hawk standing before him and then looked at Rhyne and Tristan. His face relaxed slightly, but then quickly turned into an expression of anger as he scowled at Rhyne, who was now leaning against the wall for support with her arms wrapped around her waist because she was laughing so hard.

She saw his face and started to laugh even more. Gawain looked at Tristan noticed even he was slightly laughing, but did not know at what: him and Jamari, or the clasping Rhyne. Gawain's attention was turned to Jamari, suddenly remembering her yelp from before. She still sat rubbing the back of her head. Gawain helped her up. "Are you okay?" he asked tenderly. She nodded with a little smile.

"That was a good one, Little Brother!" Rhyne managed to say through her laughter.

"Why did you have to startle us so?" Gawain asked with a little annoyance.

"I'm sorry, I just couldn't help myself." Her laughter was dying a little. "You two just looked so precious, and your reaction was priceless."

Suddenly four other knights and one healer poured into the room. They all had shuffled clothes on from just waking up, and Galahad still stumbled a little from the night before. Rhyne noticed that only Arthur looked properly dressed, and held Excalibur in hand. He must have had trouble sleeping again. _He worries too much. Does he not believe me when I said they would be fine? Well, he did say a few days back that he hated not having Lancelot by his side. He looks so empty. _Rhyne quickly shoved the thought from her head as they were bombarded with questions. Mostly 'what was that?', 'is anyone hurt?', but Galahad seemed to say the most bizarre statement Rhyne had ever heard at a moment like this. "Don't drop the baby!"

The questions suddenly ceased and all looked to Galahad. They all stared at him with confusion. He kept looking around the room, almost falling over few times because of his hangover, and he never seemed to notice their stares. Eventually they all looked away. It was clear their brother knight was not mentally with them at the moment. "What is all the commotion about? I heard a howl and came running." Arthur stated. The rest that walked in all nodded.

"What's going on?" Bors bellowed.

"It was nothing. Rhyne was just having a little fun."

"Well it can't bloody well be nothing. He must have howled for a reason," Arthur stated.

Rhyne was about to speak when Jamari stopped her. "Really, it was nothing. We were just startled."

Bors looked over to Rhyne. "You laughed that much because they were just merely startled?" All then looked over to Rhyne veiled in confusion, except for Galahad, he was strongly focused on something on the ceiling.

"Ok this is what happened," Rhyne began. "Tristan and I walked in and-" but she was cut off by Gawain.

"It was reall-" but Gawain was then cut off by hushed from all that barged in the room. Galahad finally looked away from the ceiling at that moment. He heard the hushes and started to hush as well, but to no one in particular. He walked in circles hushing until Dagonet finally grabbed him and held his hand over his mouth. But that did not stop Galahad; he kept hushing, to Dagonet's much regret. He cringed his face every time Galahad hushed, for slobber was covering his hand.

Rhyne finally continued. "Me and Tristan, followed by Hawk, came in the room to relieve Gawain and Jamari of duty when we opened the door and found them sleeping. And pretty comfortably I might add. I had Hawk howl before them and they were startled, so I started laughing. Their reactions were great."

All looked over to Gawain and Jamari. All noticed how close they were standing to each other and that Gawain's hand was on Jamari's back. They noticed their position and quickly stood away from each other. Bors started laughing. "Well, it was just a matter of time, really." And he made his way out the door. Jamari then blushed and looked to the ground. Jarrah had a very shocked look on her face. She walked forward and grabbed her older sister's hand and led her out of the room. Gawain stood for a moment, and then soon followed behind the sisters.

Rhyne laughed when he exited, and the rest standing soon followed. Tristan chuckled and Dagonet smiled while shaking his head, still holding Galahad. "It was to be expected." Tristan nodded.

Arthur looked over to the two laying in fever still. "Has there been any change?"

"Jamari told me last night their fever was lower than the day before. They should wake soon."

Arthur nodded. "Well, I leave you to your duties Rhyne. Tristan, Dagonet." They nodded to him a farewell. Dagonet made his way to the door, with Galahad. He put a hand on Tristan's shoulder and nodded, then walked out.

Tristan closed the door behind him and looked at his love. "That was cruel."

"I know, but I just couldn't help myself. Don't you ever have the urge to just touch something, even if someone tells you not to?"

Tristan thought for a moment. "Yes," and he quickly wrapped his arms around her. "Whenever I am close to you." He took her lips into a slow deep kiss. He traced a few fingers down her spine. The touch sparked a sensation through her veins and Rhyne fell into him. Tristan backed away from her lips. "I will have to do that more often." She caressed one thumb over one of his cheek tattoos. Symbols that she knew meant for 'Flight'.

"You need more tattoos." Rhyne said it with a smile.

"That can be arranged. But what would I get?"

Rhyne thought for a moment, and then got a smirk on her face. "Well, you can always get my name."

Tristan smiled. "You are not that important to me. I would get Lancelot's name before yours." He said it with a mocking smirk.

Rhyne hit him in the chest. "You are such a cocky bastard!"

"Vixen." He whispered as he let her go.

Rhyne walked over to check Sparrow's bandages. They would not need changing yet. She held out a hand on both their foreheads. The fever was slowly breaking. The chamomile was no longer needed. All they could do now was wait. Hawk jumped upon the bed and lay in between Lancelot and Sparrow. Rhyne scratched behind his ears lovingly before walking back over to Tristan.

They sat together on the softly cushioned chair. She sat on his lap and rested one arm behind his neck and the other on his chest. Tristan put one arm around her waist and the other rested on her lap. He began to rub the inside of her thigh. Rhyne lent her head against his and sighed. "How long has it been?" she whispered playfully.

"Five days. We are either watching them, or too tired from watching them."

She twirled one of his braids around her finger. "Your braids need to be redone."

"Do them for me tonight."

"Does that mean we are taking a bath?" Rhyne asked with a hint of excitement in her voice. Tristan answered with a kiss. "Oh, I can't wait." Tristan smiled. Rhyne still had part of a little girl in her. Though he didn't blame her, all they had done while alone for the past five days was sleep. There was always something to do. It was torture for them. They wanted so much to love each other every waking moment, but couldn't.

They both sat in a content silence for a while, both with their own thoughts. Rhyne began to hum and song, and soon after the words followed. He was lost in her angelic voice, for he had never heard it before. It could easily put a spell on him, and he listened, hoping it would do so.

_When the warmth of the day becomes the night_

_Who could sleep beneath a strange moonlight? _

_No guiding star_

_So far from home_

_Walked the way o? promise to find but snow_

_Throughout, the voice of the winds brings nothing more_

_Than low echoes_

_So far from home_

_Even from a child_

_A wish is not enough_

_For me, for me the sky may fall_

_And even from a child_

_A dream is not enough_

_Could be, could be the sky may fall_

_Could be, could be the night ends all_

_No rains could weep as I have wept_

_To know a simple dream will not be kept_

_I am a child_

_So far from home_

_One by one the sky falls_

_I may not awaken_

Rhyne's voice stopped and Tristan opened his eyes. The spell had broken. "Why have you never sang before?" he asked wistfully.

"You have never asked me before." Rhyne said with a growing smile.

"I will start asking you now. Your voice is enchanting."

Rhyne laughed. "You are not the first person to tell me that." Tristan began gave her a quirky look when they heard a sound over from the bed. Both looked over with anticipation. Lancelot groaned a little and slowly picked up his hand and put it against his forehead. Rhyne and Tristan sped to his side in an instant.

Tristan put a hand on his shoulder. "Lancelot." The knight finally opened his eyes and looked at Tristan and Rhyne.

"I heard singing." He said wearily.

Rhyne nodded. "That was me." Lancelot looked over to Sparrow whose eyes were still closed. Rhyne put a hand on his chest. "Wake her. You are the only one who can."

"How long was I asleep?"

Rhyne looked to Tristan. This would be strange for him. "Seven days," Tristan answered him.

Lancelot was horribly confused. "It did not seem like that long."

"Time in the Spirit Realm passes by slower than here. A few days there can be years here." It was not really registering for him. "Do not fret. Wake her."

Lancelot finally turned over to Sparrow. He lifted one hand to her cheek. "Sparrow, wake up, my sweet fire," and he kissed her forehead.

Tristan stood behind Rhyne and pulled her closer to him with his arm around her waist as Sparrow stirred. Rhyne put an arm on Tristan's and leaned against him. Sparrow opened her eyes and looked into Lancelot's. She smiled weakly. "Hello, my love." He leaned in and kissed her softly. They finally let go of each other's hands and looked at their palms. The scars were fully healed, and looked years old, just like any other battle scar.

"I will make sure Jamari comes to change your bandages soon. We will leave you two alone for a while," Rhyne said.

Sparrow looked past Lancelot. "Mother?"

"I will be back later. Little Brother, you stay with them." The wolf had not moved from his position in between Lancelot and Sparrow. They both reached and rubbed each ear. Rhyne and Tristan backed towards the door. As they closed it they heard Lancelot whisper to her. "Don't you ever do that to me again?" There was a little chuckle.

"Next time, don't follow me."

"Hey, you were the one who pulled me in." Lancelot said in protest.

"That's what you get for holding my hand forever." But the rest faded out as they made their way down the hall.

The sun was just showing its head over the distant mountains. Tristan pushed Rhyne against the wall lightly and pressed against her. "Tristan, I have to see Jamari." He didn't listen, but instead she felt his breath on her neck and his warm lips on her skin. She leant her head into his and sighed deeply. "Tristan," it was getting harder to speak. "I have to see her before we do this." He still didn't listen, but was now was moving a hand up her tunic. Rhyne slithered from his grip, to both their disappointments. "I will be back in a few minutes." Rhyne turned from him before she changed her mind.

* * *

Rhyneknocked on Jamari's door and voice came from within. "Come in." Jamari looked up from a gown she was mending on her lap.

Rhyne closed the door. "Lancelot and Sparrow are awake." Jamari hopped up, but Rhyne out her arms up and she sat back down. "They are fine. I told them you would come and change her bandages in a while. But leave them be for now." Jamari nodded, and looked back to her work. Rhyne studied her for a moment. _Gawain sure can pick them._ Rhyne noticed Jamari's very feminine body for the first time. Not as muscular and filled out as she could be. _She needs to eat more_. But she was fairer than many of the barmaids Gawain usually had on his lap.

"I'm sorry if I embarrassed you earlier." Rhyne said. Jamari just shrugged. Rhyne raised her brow. "It's really hard to get anything past this group." Jamari gave her quirky looked. "A bond like that, with Gawain."

Jamari stood suddenly. "We do not have a bond, just understand each other."

Rhyne laughed. "You are not a very good liar. Yelling is a dead give away." Jamari just glared. "There is no reason to deny it. Many women would kill to be with Gawain, or any of these knights."

"Well, I'm not one of them." Jamari griped.

"I don't believe it for a second. You should not deny feelings?"

"I don't have any feelings."

"Don't you?" Rhyne crossed her arms. Jamari was about to say something but plopped down back on the bed edge in defeat. "Come, tell me." Rhyne sat next to her. Jamari looked shocked. Rhyne smiled. "Just because I can fight as good as any man does not mean I am one. I am still a woman through and through. So, come, tell me."

"Well…" Jamari trailed off, not knowing where to start.

Rhyne snickered. "I know how you feel," and then sighed while looking forward with Jamari.

"Really? The flipping stomach and speechless thoughts…"

"And tingle of his touch, and racing of your heart…yes, I know the feeling. You are not the only person to fall for someone." Jamari looked at her mentally asking for more. "We met long ago, but were separated not knowing what the future held. Fourteen year later fate brought us back together, and nothing had really changed. I felt like I never left. The love was still there, and so we were finally together and everything is as I dreamt it to be." Jamari was not satisfied. "He is dark, mysterious, reserved, and pensive. And his is caring, and thoughtful. More romantic then anyone would guess. He finds comfort in silence and he always knows what I'm thinking."

Jamari nodded silently. "He is very different from Gawain. When I have seen you two you both look very…content. I am almost jealous."

Rhyne giggled. "You can have the same thing with Gawain, he is a good man. All the knights are. They all have their faults, but none where is should break a bond. I think you should keep the track."

"But now that they are awake, you will be leaving soon." Jamari now looked very distressed.

"So come with us. Our fort could use some more healers. The Romans don't like seeing the knights much, so we have always had our own healers sometime or another. We could use another two. Arthur would welcome you to come."

Jamari contemplated her words a moment. "You just think about it, and we shall speak to Arthur together," Rhyne assured her and started for the door. "Oh, and don't tell anyone about how described Tristan, he would kill me," and finally walked out the door. She had been away from Tristan for too long.

* * *

When Rhyne opened the door to the room she shared with Tristan he was sitting on the bed, his back facing her. Rhyne locked the door and threw herself on the bed behind him. She put her arms around him and pressed herself against his back. When he did not respond she slid one arm down the front of his tunic and started to nibble at his neck. "I want to ask you something." She mumbled quietly in his skin. "Why did you name them that?"

Rhyne paused suddenly and stayed there for a moment. She pulled away from him and sat against the headboard with her knees to her chest. "I don't know."

"You have to." He would not look at her. "I have to know Rhyne. Those names were special to us."

"It is what came natural. Little Brother was the first companion I had since I left you, my guardian, much like you were, and still are."

"And Sparrow?" They still were not looking at each other.

"Tristan, why do you need to know this?"

"They were part of us."

"They still are."

"They can't be, they belong to others now."

"Are you upset I gave away our childhood names to my friend and daughter? Is that why you ask?" She was slightly upset.

"No, I just want to know why?"

"I told you, they just came naturally."

"It's more than that. Don't lie to yourself."

"Why is this an issue?"

"Why can't you answer?" Rhyne didn't answer him. "You are hiding something else. You are hiding the reason. Just tell me."

"I can't."

"You are not hiding this one Rhyne, you may hide everything else, but not this." Tristan finally looked over to her. "Just tell me."

There was a long silence before she answered. "I thought I was going to die. I wished it. I wanted no more suffering, and I shamed my father for my weakness." Tears started to fall. "I was different then. I was weak. I was alone, and I wanted to die. I passed on the names to the only two lives that were part of me. They were all I had, and were my only hope." Rhyne looked at him with his passive expression. "Is that the answer you wanted? You do want more?" There was no answer. "Do you want to know I tried even taking my own life, but the Shaman stopped me? How about when I refused to care for Sparrow because I detested what she came from? Is that want you want, to know I caused my own daughter suffering as I received it?" They were silent, silent for an eternity.

"Why do you keep your past from me?" Tristan said breaking the unbearable silence.

"Because if I keep them from everyone, maybe I can one day forget them myself."

Tristan went to her and cupped her cheeks in her hands. "Maybe I can help you forget." He sealed his lips to hers softly and then pulled away. "I love you, Rhyne. Right now, that is all that matters. Forget about everything else. We are here together."

"Tristan…" He stopped her from saying anymore.

"No, forget it. Nothing else matters but now." He pulled her against him and drowned her in a slow and passionate kiss. All her thoughts were washed away by his love as started slip off her tunic…

* * *

A little while before midday there was a knock on their door. "Who is it?" Rhyne asked.

"Sparrow is asking for you." It was the voice of Jarrah behind the door. "We are all gathered in their room."

"I will be there shortly." Rhyne said as she heard Jarrah's footsteps fade. Rhyne went back to braiding Tristan's hair. He was sitting on the ground before her while she sat on the edge of the bed. They bathed a little after they had made love and Rhyne reminded him that he agreed to let her re-braid his hair. He moaned in annoyance slightly, but sat down before her as she started the long task of untangling his dark brown mane. Tristan complained every time she pulled. She laughed. "You are such a baby for being a deadly killer. You need a tougher head."

"I don't comb my hair as much as you."

"That is not an excuse. If only the Woads knew…" She smirked to her statement and she saw Tristan's glare in the mirror.

Rhyne started to hum a song as she braided. Tristan stared at her reflection. Her red hair fell in front of her as she worked and her talisman gleamed from the sunlight around her neck. Rhyne's heritage raged out of her. She was proud to have Sarmatian blood, but British blood as well. He looked into her eyes, their fire was somewhat diminished, and her skin was a little lighter than usual. That question still haunted her. "I'm sorry." He said suddenly.

Rhyne stopped braiding and looked at him in the mirror. "For what?"

"Haunting you. The shadow still lingers in your mind."

Rhyne gave a weak smile. "It was going to come out sometime." And she went back to finishing his braids. It was enough said. He didn't want to upset her or argue. Rhyne smiled as she thought about the sensations of this morning. Tristan saw a little light flicker in her green eyes, and he smiled as well. She tied off one more braid. "There, that should do it."

He looked at himself in the mirror, and just nodded. Rhyne gave him a fierce hug. "I love you." Tristan returned the gesture and wrapped his arms around her tightly. "And I you." They headed to Lancelot and Sparrow's room hand in hand.

* * *

_**Okay, this is going to be that last chapter at this boring fort. We are going back now with the next chapter…and the bishop is coming…yea…the movie part is coming up. Was the convo with Rhyne and Tris too short...or okay. I feel something was wrong with it. Well, its just more of her past coming out…hope it was not too boring. Do you like the idea of Gawain and Jamari? Tell me if you like…**_


	15. Rejection

**_Disclaimer: same as before…I use the name of a Sarmatian tribe in this chapter. I am pretty sure I spelled it right. _**

_**Tracy 137: I am glad you are okay, with the tests and all that. Thanks for thinking the chapter was okay. I just felt there was something wrong with it. And I really do love the latest chapters in Bethan & Lucen. And I feel really bad I am not reviewing it, besides like the way I have been doing. I have just been so crazy with school finals and everything. I promised I will after school is out. Little Captain is the perfect name for him. There is so much tension between Bethan and Gawain, I love it. She just needs to sleep with him and let go of everything. How can she deny something so deep? I understand why, but sometimes you most just let things go. **_

**_Camreyn: I think you are right. Rhyne and the Bishop will have issues…but maybe not what you think. We will see. Yeah, I know the question from Tristan was a little sudden. I think I needed to change the words to "I have been wanting to ask you something?", instead of coming out straight with the question. That would have probably been better. Oh well. I think I was just so desprate to get this chapter done because I was taking forever I never really thought about it until I read it over again after. I really wanted to get so tension between Rhyne and Tristan and just threw it in there. But there will be more to come. Thanx for being honest._**

_**Countess Jackman: Thanx. I was really hesitant about this chapter because I was in such a hurry to get it done, and did not really go over it as well as I should have. I'm glad you liked it though. And I really wanted to get Gawain with someone. I love him, but not as much as Tristan. And I know I said they were leaving the fort this chapter, but it will not be until the next one. But there is a reason, I promise.**_

_**Okay, I am so sorry this chapter took so damn long to get out. This was a really hard chapter to write. I was stuck. Thanks to my friend Nicole, she unlocked my writer's block. And I am going crazy with the end of school and finals and things. And I know I said they were going to leave the fort in this chapter, but it have to be the next. There is a reason for that I promise. This conversation was needed. **_

_**Hope you like it… **_

Justice Will Rhyne

Chapter Fifteen-Rejected

Rhyne and Tristan heard laughing from down the hall. They walked in the room and all the knights were assembled, including Jamari and Jarrah, but they were opposite Gawain and Galahad standing next to Dagonet. Lancelot sat against the headboard of the bed, with Sparrow lying against his chest. Tristan stood against the wall next to the door and Rhyne walked over to Sparrow and Lancelot's side. "How are you feeling?" as she took her daughter's hand.

Her skin was still pale she was still slightly sweating from the fever. Sparrow squeezed her mother's hand. "I am as best as I could be." Rhyne smiled and then looked over to Lancelot. He grinned at her. "I am fine, just exhausted from lying down for seven days." Rhyne would leave other questions for later and so she walked over and stood next to Tristan who slid an arm around her waist.

Bors was the first to speak again. "So there Little Bird, we never thought you were going to wake up."

Sparrow smiled. "Oh Bors, where we just were, you would never want to wake either. Warm sun, gentle breeze, peaceful wood, clear river. Any would be enchanted by it."

"Is that what it was like there?" Gawain asked in disbelief.

Lancelot nodded. "Yes, my brother. It was almost a paradise." They were all stunned.

"They are right." Rhyne cut in. "I have been there once myself. It is hard to let it go and come back."

"What made you?" Arthur asked with a tilted head in question.

"I found something there that made me remember the death of my father, and forced myself to return knowing my destiny still waited for me."

"And you two?" Bors asked this time.

"I was ready to die, but someone told me I had to fight." She squeezed Lancelot's hand.

"We thought you were going through Hell." Bors pointed out.

Rhyne and Sparrow both shook their heads. "It is far from Hell." Rhyne said to him.

There was a long silence. No one knew what to say. They could all yell at her for coming to their aid, for following them, but no one had the heart to. They all knew she wouldn't listen. Sparrow was as stubborn as her mother. Both would gladly die for a cause they truly believed in, and that is what frightened the knights most about them. Rhyne had passed that on to her daughter. The knights adored them both as sisters, and for two knights, more than sisters. Now that they have Rhyne back, and a surprising daughter of hers in their lives, and they were not about to let go of them. They had lost too many brothers, and were not going to lose them as well. _They are far too free_, Arthur thought to himself. _They have too much fire in their spirits_, Dagonet thought. _Every knight loves a woman who will fight back_, Bors nodded to himself.

Gawain and Galahad were thinking on total different lines of thought. _Her smile makes me go crazy,_ Gawain thought while eyeing the smile on Jamari's face. Meanwhile she also thought of Gawain. _I can't wait until when can hold each other again_, and her smile broadened at the memory of them cuddling together last night.

Galahad was shaking his head at himself. _She will never let me near her, I made a fool of myself this morning_, he thought while looking over to Jarrah who was looking at the ground. _Why does Jamari always get the men and never me?_ She sighed.

Rhyne leaned her head on Tristan's shoulder. _Goddess, please let us preserve this happiness. Watch over us while the coming storm let's loose her wrath_. Rhyne then squeezed Tristan's hand in her own. Tristan tightened his grip around her. _Never again leave me, Rhyne. I could not bear the loss, _and he kissed the side of her head.

Sparrow lay in the arms of Lancelot contently. She had already heard a few of his thoughts. Her mother had told her of this occurrence before. Sometimes, souls that are bound the way theirs were can speak together in the realm of thought. It had not surprised her that they would now be able to, especially because of what they just went through. Sparrow smiled and decided to surprise him. 'Can you hear me Lancelot?'

Lancelot bounced underneath her, causing a shot of pain that felt like a knife in her side to shoot through her body and her face clenched. He had heard her. "Sorry," he said some what confused. Sparrow just shook her head.

'You can hear me?' Lancelot nodded. 'Speak as if it is a thought you mean to say to me out loud.'

He was silent a moment, trying to figure how he is suppose to do that purposefully. He hesitated a moment. 'Can you hear me?' It was a voice of question.

Sparrow smiled. 'Yes. We can speak like this because of how tightly our souls are now bound.'

Lancelot was still a bit confused. 'I am kind of new to all this magic stuff.'

She chuckled slightly. 'You get used to it.'

They were silent a moment and then Lancelot grinned that grin. 'So, I guess this means we are really in love then?' It was a mocking tone.

Sparrow elbowed him in the ribs, causing a little jolt of pain to her side. 'You bastard! I could really hate you for that.'

'No you couldn't,' he said in a whisper. 'I know'. She answered regrettably.

Rhyne watched as Lancelot and Sparrow conversed in what seemed to be a series of different glances. She then knew that they had a thought connection. With the power of the binding of their two souls it only makes since. Rhyne smiled. _Maybe this love will prevent what he has in his future?_ Rhyne asked herself. She only hoped. His future was cloudy; fate had not yet decided what to do with him.

Arthur finally had courage to break the uncomfortable silence. "Why did you do it?" He was looking as Sparrow.

She turned at the sound of her voice, as did everyone else. She knew what he meant, and her face went from a smile to a stern rock. "I had to."

"Why?" Arthur was speaking in his commander tone. Rhyne may have been able to defy his authority, but Sparrow will not.

"I just did. Fate was calling me towards you."

"You could have died, Little Bird. What then?" Bors asked somberly, not wanting to think about if she did.

"It would have been a good death for a good cause," she answered him. Tristan was surprised at this. He had been raised by those very same words. The voice of his father rang in his ears. _All we should seek in life is a good death by a good cause_. He still lived by those words, everyday. He assumed now she did as well. It was to be expected, she was part Sarmatian.

"What if that was a foolish cause?" Arthur questioned her.

Sparrow angered by his response. "Would you call helping my dear friends escape from death a foolish cause?"

"Yes, if it causes your death. What do you think that would have done to us? You are a child compared to these warriors. Your mother and I ordered you to stay behind. I will not take defiance from a small girl." Arthur overpowered her.

His voice boomed in her ears, and she was a little frightened. Sparrow needed help against his anger. "Mother?"

"I agree Sparrow. You should not have come, I wished you not to. You would have killed me by sacrificing yourself."

"And my intentions meant nothing?" Sparrow was hurt her mother did not side with her.

Dagonet saw the tension between them and decided to cut in. "They mean everything. But your help was not needed. We have handled more than that before." He said it calmly with his deep voice. Sparrow found a little comfort in it.

"But you did not know how many there would be?"

"We would not have thrown ourselves into battle if we did not think we would survive. That is careless leading," Arthur protested. He did not like people questioning his decisions in battle. He took that only from Lancelot because of his trust and Tristan because of his knowledge of war. He was a scout after all.

"I will give you one thing, you proved that you could battle Saxons, you just have to watch how many you face at one time." Gawain hated debates and always felt the need to have a little praise or laughter to keep from killing each other. Feuds between knights are never pretty.

Sparrow nodded gratefully to him. "I did what I did because I had to, and I chose to. If I had the chance to do go back, I would bloody well do it again. No one, not even you Arthur, can keep me from my fate."

Arthur had had enough defiance against his word for one week. "You may not be one of my knights, but you did put one of them in danger. Do not defy my word again Sparrow when it comes to fighting. I will not cease from punishing you." Sparrow had not seen anger like this from him. She did not like being on the receiving end. "A child has no place on the battlefield, even if you are twice the warrior any us of are." He walked out like a giant, for a giant he was.

The knights were surprised he would show such anger to Sparrow. There was a long silence. "Is that the way you all feel? That I am a child who should be allowed to fight for those she loves?" Sparrow was angry, but there was more emotion in her voice. They had hurt her, deeper than they could imagine.

Slowly, all the knights nodded. "We do not deny your care for us, Sparrow. We just don't want to see you get hurt like this. You deserve better." Galahad spoke up for the first time.

"Aye, I agree," nodded Gawain. "You are too much of a good person to die in battle at your age."

"A time may come when we are truly in dire need for your sword, and will not hesitate to ask. But now is not that time. You deserve a better death than that by a Saxon sword." Tristan spoke with the wisdom his father always spoke to him. The other knights looked to him with a little shock. He had never expressed his feelings about something like this with more than a few words. Something had changed in him.

"And you mother?" Sparrow was not comforted by their words.

Rhyne nodded. "Your time has not yet come."

Sparrow looked to Lancelot behind her. "And you?"

He thought for moment to find words that would not hurt her. "I love you, my sweet fire. But I can not afford to lose you yet." It was enough for Sparrow to see that he also agreed. She could not speak, and could not move. She was rejected by those she loved most. She looked down and closed her eyes. A single tear rolled down her cheek.

"Do not hate us Little Bird. Your time will soon come." Bors tried to reassure her. It was a tone of voice she had not heard before. Tenderness and care.

"Get out." Sparrow whispered to them. No one moved. She picked up her head. "Get out," she said in a higher tone.

"Sparrow, don't-" Rhyne started but was cut off by the now raging Sparrow.

"Get out! All of you! Leave me!" They slowly started to file out. Rhyne started to walk over to her. "No mother. I have nothing to say to you." Rhyne nodded and then exited followed by Tristan.

Jamari stood next to the bed. "I will come later this evening to check your wounds." Sparrow nodded and then she exited as well.

Sparrow looked behind her to Lancelot. "You too." Lancelot looked bewildered. "Go."

"I'm not leaving you."

"You already made that choice." He still didn't move. "Do not make me stand and reach for my swords, because I will do so." Lancelot got from the bed at her threat. He walked slowly towards the door and looked back at her one more time before disappearing out the door. Sparrow looked to Hawk who was still lying at the foot of the bed. "You too. I want to be alone." He mumbled something. "No, I will be fine." He stood from the bed and trotted to the door. He put the handle in his mouth and pulled it shut as he left.

Sparrow started to sob quietly then. Tears fell freely from her eyes streaking down her cheek and onto the sheets she lay on. They all thought she was a child, and could not handle herself in battle. Had she not proved that? Had she not killed Saxons with a few quick blows? She deserved to be there as much as her mother. Why could they not see she had a fate among them?

Little did she know that one day soon, she would prove that…

The knights were gathered outside her room for a few moments. Bors spoke. "Well, we should not let this from celebrating. They are alive. We should drink in the tavern tonight."

Rhyne smirked a little. "You do that every night."

"Yes, but tonight we drink until we can't piss straight." Bors started to walk off to his room.

"You still do that every night." Rhyne yelled after him. The others laughed a little. Lancelot was sitting against the wall with his head in his hands. Rhyne knelt beside him as the others started to walk back to their own rooms. "Lancelot, she will be fine."

"We hurt her, Rhyne. We hurt her horribly." He was very distressed.

Rhyne sighed. "I know, but she will get over it. I feel her time will come sooner than we all think.

Lancelot looked up at her. "What does that mean?"

She smiled a little. "We shall find out soon enough. Fate has a funny way of playing tricks on you when you least expect it." She looked him over. "Are you alright to walk by yourself?" He nodded. "Alright. Will we see you at the tavern later than?"

He did not answer. Tristan put a hand on her shoulder. He knew he needed to be left alone. Rhyne nodded to him. She stood and started to walk away. "Will you stay and watch the door Little Brother? Howl if anything happens?" In answer Hawk lay in front of the door. Rhyne smiled. "You are my endless companion, Little Brother. I hope you never leave my side."

* * *

Tristan and Rhyne had decided to take a ride on the beach since it would be their last day at the fort. Arthur had informed all the knights after the incident this morning that a wagon was being taken back with them to hold Sparrow since they needed to get back as soon as they could and could not wait for her wounds to heal.

The couple rode in silence, taking in the sounds of the ocean as they both sat aback on Isolde, Tristan's dapple grey. Rhyne sat in front of him and rode without a saddle. It was not needed.

Tristan finally broke the silence. "Something Sparrow said surprised me."

"What?" Rhyne asked leaning to one side so she could see his face.

"That if she died it would have been for a good cause. Did you preach that to her?"

Rhyne smiled. "No. I always told her stories of father while she was growing up, and she decided on that principle in her own time."

"That was a saying of my tribe, the Aorsi. 'The only thing you should seek in life is a good death by a good cause'."

"I agree. It is a good way to live. It must be the Sarmatian blood in her that is bringing out the warrior."

"That is no bad thing." Tristan felt Rhyne was leaving something out. They were all warriors and lived that life since they were all children. What could she have against it?

"No, it is not. I am glad of that. But there is something missing from that life." Rhyne looked up into the gathering clouds. It was going to rain again.

"What?" Tristan would hear his answer.

"Love. Do we not need that to keep us sane?" She looked back at him again.

Tristan raised his brow. "I thought that's what rain was for?" he asked playfully.

She thumped his thigh. "I'm serious, Tris. What if you never found love, or I never returned? What if one of us dies? Do you not think we need love to keep us sane?"

He liked just 'Tris'. He would have to think of a name for her. Tristan thought of her question for a moment. "I would have died miserable and alone if you never returned, and will if you leave me again." He tightened his grip around her waist.

Rhyne chuckled. He didn't find anything thing in his answer funny. "Surely you have had your share of women in your bed, Tristan?"

"I like just 'Tris'."

Rhyne smiled at him and rolled her eyes. "Okay. Tris, surely you have had your share of women in your bed."

Tristan nodded, passively. "Yes, but it meant nothing. You obviously have as well, seeing as you have Sparrow," he answered sarcastically.

Rhyne just smiled. She hadn't. Since she had given birth to Sparrow she had not laid with any other man. She was scared the same thing might happen. She shamed her weakness of fear, but she feared for her infant daughter more than herself. It was a new responsibility, children, once Rhyne decided to finally accept Sparrow. Rhyne wished more than she could count that Tristan was her father, but he wasn't, and that was no doubt. She had only been with one man, and she wanted to forget him. She did not want to remember those fearful nights.

Tristan saw that there was something on her mind. "What is it?"

Rhyne came back to reality at the sound of his voice. She was relieved. "Nothing. I have just loved you for so long, I do not think I am capable of loving someone else."

He pulled her against his chest. "I won't let you go again, even in death. I would follow you."

Rhyne sighed. "As would I if you fell."

They were silent for a long while, contemplating the peacefulness of silence. "Do you think we told Sparrow wrong? We hurt her dreadfully." Rhyne asked in a solemn tone. She always hated scorning her daughter because she never took it well, exaggerating the outcomes.

Tristan saw Rhyne battling with her emotions. "We did. She was hoping we would understand her thinking," he said in his normally inert tone.

"I did understand why. I believe what she said; I just don't want to lose her. I can't lose her." Her cursed face returned to her.

"I have noticed." He chuckled, seeing her change in emotion.

"I refuse to live out my child."

"All parents do. But like you have said, fate has a funny way of playing with you."

Rhyne smiled. "Aye, it does. I'm back aren't I? I never thought I would see home again."

"What made you come back now?" Tristan looked at her face change again. The smile was gone, and now her face went blank, as his was most of the time. She was silent for a while and he figured she did not want to answer. But she finally spoke, when he was about to bury the question.

"I felt like it was time. I knew Arthur needed help. There are so few of you now. And Sparrow would be able to finish her training."

Tristan knew that was not all. She was hiding something, but this was not the time. He had already upset her once. She had said that first night they were together she would tell her story when the time was right. He left the question alone, and buried it deep for a later time. He decided to change the subject. "Are you comfortable with Lancelot being with Sparrow?"

Rhyne's face went back to normal. "I am. Lancelot is a good man, and he loves her dearly."

"He has broken many hearts. Many have loved him. He is capable of breaking hers."

"Now that their blood has been mixed they will always have a need for each other. No matter how much they try not to, they will love each other. Besides, they challenge each other constantly. That is the kind of person they both need."

Tristan let out a deep breath. "You may be right. I have seen a change in him the past few weeks, since you two arrived."

"But I fear something." She suddenly looked disturbed. Tristan leaned forward resting his head on her shoulders so he could see her eyes. "I sense darkness in their future. I saw it around him when we first arrived. It has diminished slightly, but is still there."

Tristan did not like her tone, or the way that sounded. "There is trouble in his future?" No matter how much he did not show it, he worried for his brother knights more than anyone in the world besides Rhyne.

She let out a concerned sigh. "There is trouble waiting for all of us, Tris." She turned her head and looked into his eyes. She kissed his cheek and looked forward again, with the still distressed look in her eyes. A breeze kicked up from the ocean and Rhyne closed her eyes leaning her head up to greet it. The wind seemed to whip around them both for a moment before calming. Rhyne opened her eyes when it did. They glowed like gems, and Tristan felt her spirit soaring. "What was that?"

Rhyne was glowing. She looked like she was from the Realm of Faery. Tristan was captivated when she looked at her. "Did you not hear the whispers?" Tristan was taken aback. Rhyne giggled at his face. "I guess not." Rhyne sighed. "She does not want me to worry of our fates yet, they have not yet come."

"She?"

"The Goddess. She is in everything around us, and she can speak with us when needed."

"Is that not what your visions are for?"

Rhyne shook her head. "Those are warnings. She just wishes me to be happy for the time being. Worry when the threat comes." Tristan still had yet to understand her Druid ways. He knew little about the religion, but had a feeling he would know most of their beliefs soon enough.

Isolde was now walking in the mud. The remnants of waves washed under them. Tristan smirked a little, thinking of something wicked. He hugged Rhyne into a deep hug, pulling her against him. When he knew she would be secure in his arms Tristan put pressure on his knees and Isolde turned, walking deeper into the water. "What are you doing?" Rhyne asked. She noticed his smile, and then how he had his arms. She started to struggle, but he tightened his grip around her and she couldn't move. She started to scream playfully, yelling his name.

A large wave came their way, and he pulled her down with him. Her scream was silenced as they went under the water. Rhyne surfaced hearing the sound of Tristan's laugh. They were in a sitting position a few feet away from each other, with water coming up to their chests. Their hair was dripping in salt water and their clothes clung to their skin. The wind picked up again at the sound of his laugh. Rhyne scowled towards the sky. The Goddess was laughing with him.

Rhyne jumped forward, pushing them both under again. They wrestled in the shallow water, under and above the surface. After a few moments, Tristan finally caught her tight in her arms again and resurfaced. She was held tight against his chest, lips only centimeters from his.

"Do you have any idea how much I hate you right now?" Rhyne tried to look angry, but Tristan saw her smile.

"Yes."

"Mongrel." She whispered.

"Witch." He moved the hair from her face and cupped one of her cheeks in his hand. His lips met hers and Rhyne slipped her arms around her neck. They pulled away breathing hard, and set their foreheads together. Tristan's eyes were closed. "Do you know what you do to me?"

Rhyne smirked, and then kissed him again. She took his bottom lip between hers. She knew he loved it, and could not resist the passion then. He groaned into her mouth and opened his lips in welcome. When their tongues met Tristan buried his hands in her hair and crushed her body to his.

Rhyne anchored one of her feet underneath the water, and as soon as she had a good grip she pushed with all her power into him and they fell underneath the water. Rhyne was now the one laughing when they resurfaced. Tristan scowled. "That's what you get!" she yelled at him through each chuckle.

Tristan moved over to her slowly, and was once again centimeters from her lips. "We will just have to save it for later than," he said with heavy seduction in his voice.

"We already fulfilled that this morning."

"Who says we can't more than once a day?"

"No one." Their lips met once more.

* * *

_**How was it? Bad? I hope not. I needed to get that conversation out about Sparrow and how the knights feel about her helping. Was it too much? And I wanted to give Arthur more power. He will give into Rhyne because he knows she will defy him no matter what. But Sparrow is not as free as she is. **_


	16. Jealousy

**_Disclaimer: same as before…_**

_**Tracy137: Thanks for liking it. I feel like it is slacking a little bit. But it will get better in the next few chapters. Thanks for always reviewing, and I loved your story, a bittersweet ending. I always love those, they are the best kind. **_

_**Countess Jackman: You will find out who the father is in probably about 5 chapters, maybe less, but no more than that. Well, it will not be a certain answer, you will have your suspicions.**_

_**Camreyn: I get to go first, but you can have a go with him after. Don't we all wish we could be her. Having Sparrow being a bit childish is what I was going for, and yes, she is still a child. And I needed to give Arthur more power. I hope you like this coming chapter. **_

_**Lucillaq: Being trained to be a warrior. She was old enough when Rhyne decided it was time once again to hold a sword in her hand. **_

_**Sorry it took so long you guys to get this chapter up. It will be faster after this one I promise. I have been going insane with finals and moving back home from NY to CA. Hope you like it…**_

Justice Will Rhyne

Chapter Sixteen-Jealousy

Rhyne knocked on Arthur's door after all the knights met at the tavern that evening. "Enter," the voice said from inside. Rhyne opened the door and walked in. The room was bigger than any of the other knight's. But he was Roman, not Sarmatian. Arthur was sitting by the fire at a table looking over something. He looked up at her and waved her over to him. Rhyne sat in the chair next to him. "How is your daughter?" His face was softer than it was that morning.

Rhyne smiled a little. "She will let no one see her, except Jamari to change her bandages. We really got to her."

"I do not regret what I said."

Rhyne shook her head. "I am glad you said those things. I would not have had the heart."

They were silent for a moment, just looking each other over. Rhyne's eyes were shining. _She is happy_. Arthur was glad for her. He had also seen the change she put on his faithful scout. He smiled a lot, something that he rarely ever did before.

Rhyne noticed Arthur was struggling inwardly. His usual green eyes were glazed over a silver grey. "What troubles you, Arthur?"

"Many things, my dear sister. But I will not add my troubles to those you hold yourself."

Rhyne took his hand in hers. "We have a long ride over the next days. Would you be willing to tell me then?" Arthur nodded. "I assure you they will not add to my burdens. I have carried many for years, I doubt a few more will do anything." Her skin was warm, and his was cold. It was comforting to him.

He shook any other thoughts from her head. "Did you want something from me?"

Rhyne smiled. "Yes, I wanted to speak with you on something." Arthur nodded for her to continue. "Well, as you know, the Gate Fort has a great need for healers. I have an idea to solve that problem." Arthur nodded once more. "Well, we have two healers in our hands. Jamari and Jarrah are skilled. I could finish their training, and with your permission they may become the personal healers of the Sarmatian Knights." Rhyne was smiling throughout the whole thing. She adored her idea. Not only would they have personal healers, but the sisters have bonded with the knights, and Rhyne could also complete their magic training.

Arthur could not refuse her. "I agree with you that we do need healers. I will allow it. I have seen the way the girls have taking a liking to the men."

Rhyne's smile broadened. "Thank you, Arthur. The girls will be so excited." She kissed his cheek and headed for the door. She opened it and walked out, but he spoke.

"Rhyne," she looked back at him. "How are you?"

Rhyne thought a moment. "I am happy, for the first time in a long time." She was glowing.

Arthur smiled a little. "I am glad for you, and for Tristan. You two have been apart for too long." She saw a little loneliness in his eyes.

"Don't worry Arthur. You will find it soon enough. You are a good man, never doubt that." She left him there, confused. _Find what?

* * *

_

They all rose before sunrise the next morning and began to ready themselves for the long ride back to the Gate Fort. Rhyne went to Jamari and Jarrah last night after she had spoken to Arthur. They began packing straight away. Their mother never even listened to wear they were going. Rhyne thought it sad they had a mother like that. But it would not matter anymore, they would never come back.

Rhyne and Tristan walked to the stables together with their armor on and weapons strapped and saddle bags over their shoulders. In front of the stables there was a small wagon carriage with two large horses being strapped to it. Rhyne lifted the curtain in the back and saw Sparrow lying down in the far back corner, sleeping. There were saddle bags that she recognized as her daughters sitting beside her cleaned armor. There were other bags as well, that she suspected to be the sisters'. Sparrow's chestnut stallion was tied at the back of the wagon, groomed and unsaddled. He would be for most of the journey. He looked anxious for the long ride.

Rhyne took a hand full of oats from the bucket sitting on the edge of the wagon and held it out to him. He took the oats from her hand greedily. "Hey there Novi. You excited boy?" She scratched his neck. He tossed his head in excitement in response to her question. Sparrow has raised Novi since he was born. She named him Novantae, the name of her mother's tribe. The blood that runs through their veins. "Well, Sparrow won't be riding, she was hurt badly." He lowered his head a little. Rhyne patted him for assurance. "It will be okay boy."

She walked into the stables and saw Hawk greet Novantae with a howl and a bow. The horse neighed and then bowed to him as well. Hawk then trotted after Rhyne. They came to Zyfer's stall and the wolf and the mare had the same greeting. The closest knights to her saw their greetings. "Hey their girl. You ready for a long ride?" The mare tossed her head. Rhyne laughed. "As am I girl, I'm ready to go home again."

"Do they always greet each other like that?" Gawain asked from behind her. He had stopped grooming his horse.

"Little Brother and the horses?" Gawain nodded. "Yes, they have since I could remember." Rhyne turned back to grooming Zyfer and carried a conversation with her two companions as she did so. They were the loudest among the stables, and it caught all the knights in awe, as it did before.

A few moments later Lancelot walked into the stables. He had circles under his eyes and his skin was a little white. He had not come to the tavern last night, but Rhyne figured he had stayed up all night because of his appearance. Rhyne looked down to wear Hawk was lying, but he was gone. She watched him walk up to Lancelot and greet him with both his paws on his chest. Lancelot was a little stunned, for Hawk only does that to Rhyne, Sparrow and Tristan. Lancelot scratched his head after a moment. "Hey there Hawk." The wolf mumbled something and Lancelot looked to Rhyne.

"He's asking if you'll be okay." Rhyne called over.

Lancelot looked back down to Hawk. "I'll be fine." Hawk mumbled something again and then trotted back over to Rhyne.

"He said so will she," as Rhyne nodded over to the wagon. Rhyne took two necklaces from her saddlebags and knelt next to the sitting Hawk. She touched the top of his head to her forehead. "Goddess, watch over us as we go on this quest back to our homes. Allow our swords to stay clean on our backs and heal the wounds that have been inflicted on us by our enemies. Let our hands ensure justice on this soil." She tied a beaded necklace around his neck and the other around hers. "So mote it be."

Lancelot looked over to the wagon for a moment and then nodded silently, starting to groom his own steed. Rhyne went back to talking to Zyfer. Jamari and Jarrah came to the wagon with more bags that contained healing supplies. Arthur walked into the stable then. "Knights, if you have not been told already, the healers Jamari and Jarrah are coming with us and will become our private healers." There were nods from the knights, and a smile from Gawain and Galahad. Bors slapped Gawain on the back hard and then scowled at his fellow knight.

They were ready within the hour and all rode out of the stable mounted on their horses. The Commander of the fort came out to give them a farewell. He was wearing a red and white roman toga, much to the knights' disappointment. They would have loved to see him in the armor again. They needed some humor to lighten up for the long ride.

"We thank you for your assistance, Commander Artorius. May God go with you." He saw Jamari and Jarrah setting a few more bags in the back of the wagon and Jarrah lifted herself in the back. He walked over and took Jamari's wrist before she could climb up. "Where are you going?"

Jamari yanked her arm from his grip. "With them. They need more healers, and you have plenty."

His eyes sharpened on hers. "And you failed to tell me you are leaving. You are under my orders as a healer."

"I am a civilian of this fort, and am under no orders of yours." Jamari's tongue got a little sharp under his glare. Rhyne saw this exchange and trotted over to them.

"How dare you. You are my healer; I will not give you to them." He voice raised.

"I am no longer yours to hold Philip. I am free within these walls, and may go if I choose." She did not back down from him.

He was now covered in rage and tossed his back and hit her. "You have not the right to call me that! You are mine!" He began to bend down to pick her up when a fist made hard contact with his face. The commander flew onto his back and groaned in pain. He opened his eyes and Gawain was standing over him with an axe in hand. Then he found a blade at his throat. He followed the steal to the face of its owner. Rhyne smiled at him.

The rest of the knights were in between the captive commander and about ten other roman soldiers trying to come to his aide. Arthur stepped beside Rhyne with Excalibur in his hand. He tried to not hate anyone. But those who hit innocents, especially women deserved a blade at their neck, even if it is a roman commander. "Do we have a problem Lord Marshall?"

"They are leaving without my permission." He was in a lot of pain. His nose had been broken and was now bleeding onto his toga. Jarrah was now off the wagon standing close to her sister.

"I did not know they needed it. They are not commissioned by Rome." Arthur was holding his superior tone.

"Hmm…I think there is a little more to this story than the commander is letting on," Rhyne grinned.

Lord Marshall hesitated. "I have seen the way she looks at you," he said to Gawain. "She looked at me the same way, and many others. She is more a whore than ever a healer." Gawain was going to lunge at him with an axe when Jamari's hand on his shoulder stopped him.

"No. He is not worth your effort. You may lift your weapons." Jamari said to the other knights. The surrounding Roman soldiers had back off long before that. They had heard many stories of Arthur's Sarmatian Knights. They were frightening. The knights sheathed all their weapons. Rhyne lifted hers from the commander's neck, but did not sheath it. Jamari looked at the bleeding commander. "Philip, I can stand to be called a whore, it has happened before, by you no less. But can you stand seeing me wanting to be with another man, when it is you that once had me?"

"Oh, I see. The commander is jealous."

He eyed her evilly and then looked at Arthur. "I will make sure Rome hears of this."

Jamari snorted. "What? So they can hear you were scared of losing the only woman in the fort that cared to please you? That you were jealous? You are such a pathetic coward, Philip."

He got angry once more and began to sit up to go after her but found Rhyne's sword at his neck again. "I don't think so." Jamari began to laugh.

"Stand down Rhyne." Arthur said. Rhyne commanded and brought Titan from his neck again and finally sheathed it. Arthur moved Excalibur in front of the commander's vision. "Get up." Lord Marshall did so slowly with his back against the side of the wagon.

"The Governor will hear of this treachery," he snapped.

Rhyne smiled. "Do you wish to make war with us Commander, over merely two healers?" She smiled broader. "Or is it because you are losing an ex-lover?" she added.

"It's the Trojan War all over again!" Lancelot blared from behind them. Rhyne looked behind her to see a grin on his face. It seemed that threatening a few Romans brought him some what back to normal.

Rhyne looked around them. "You need men if you wish to make war." The commander looked around the courtyard. He could see none of his soldiers in sight. They had cowardly hide from the infamous Sarmatians. He said nothing.

"If you insult of injure another of my party, you will regret it." Arthur said holding up Excalibur.

"She will never be yours."

"She is now," Gawain added. His blood was boiling. He wanted no more than to put this Roman out of misery.

"Do you really want to trouble Rome with such an insignificant little cat fight?" Rhyne asked.

"It seems there are two women here that need to be beat into place." He had snapped it bravely, but stupidly. Rhyne raised her brow, and then heard a hum by her ear. The commander found an arrow inches under her arm through his toga that anchored him to the wagon. He looked at the direction it came from. Tristan already had another arrow cocked in this bow, ready to fire.

Rhyne turned her head to him. "Thanks, babe." He winked at her.

"How dare you shoot at me, you filth!" That was the wrong thing to say again, for Tristan let loose the second arrow which landed underneath the other arm, anchoring him again.

"Do you really want this to go further commander? I fear where the third arrow will land. Tristan is deadly shot." Arthur stated calmly.

"You are commander of nothing but filthy, barbarian Sarmatian dogs!" He said pointing to Arthur. _Oh no_, Rhyne thought. _Can he be any more of an idiot? _A third arrow was released and aimed at his hand. The commander screamed in pain as he found his hand with an arrow through it and anchored to the wagon.

"I trust you will allow us to leave the fort peacefully." Arthur stated, but the commander was screaming so loud he probably didn't hear. "Knights, we are done here." Arthur said. "Rhyne," she looked to him. "Take care of him," and he went back to his horse.

"With pleasure." Rhyne got an evil grin on her face. She walked over and stood in front of the whimpering commander. "You are lucky it was not my bow, I am not as good a shot. You really need to learn some respect, especially to warriors like these. They have killed more enemies of Rome than any other roman legion all over the world. So, if there is anything you should be doing before them it should be," and she pulled the arrow from his hand, "to bow." He landed on his knees in a scream tearing his toga from the other arrows. Rhyne smiled. "That's more like it. And I forgot to tell you that would hurt."

Rhyne left him there and mounted Zyfer. She looked over to Gawain and Jamari. "Thank you," and Jamari kissed Gawain's cheek.

Gawain smiled. "I could not let him do that to you and get away with it." Jamari blushed slightly and got into the back of the wagon once more.

The knights led the wagon out of the fort, with most at the head, and Gawain and Galahad riding behind the wagon. "Well, it seems I was wrong," Rhyne said loud enough for all the knights to hear.

"About what?" Bors asked from behind her.

"It seems Lancelot is not the reincarnation of Paris at all. It's Gawain." There was an explosion of laughter as all the knights looked back to Gawain, who did not hear Rhyne's remark.

* * *

It was midday. Tristan was scouting up ahead on the trail. Rhyne was riding next to Arthur at the head of the line of knights. She noticed his face was no different than from last night when she spoke to him. "You told me you would speak with me on what burdens you, my brother." Arthur looked over to her palely. "We have time." He still did not speak, but only looked back ahead of them. Rhyne sighed. "Sometimes, it helps when someone is just listening."

He did not look at her again. Rhyne was going to give up and go check on Sparrow when she heard his voice. "Rome is leaving." Rhyne looked over to him, confused by his words. "We have all been ordered to leave our posts heading back to Rome by the end of the spring season. That is just beginning. Something is wrong, I can feel it."

"When did you get this order?"

"A month past, by a messenger from Rome."

"That is very strange. Are they tired of enslaving people of foreign lands that are not their own?" Rhyne asked it sarcastically.

Arthur disregarded the comment. He knew it was true, but he was just doing his duty. As far as he could see, he was protecting innocents from death. Wasn't he? "That is not the last of it. I heard that they are also ordering legions back to Rome from many different parts of the Empire. Something is happening?"

Rhyne saw no conflict. "What does it matter? You will no longer be serving Rome, and neither shall the knights. What bothers you about this Arthur? People will have their homeland back."

Arthur shrugged. "I don't know. Something just does not feel right."

"Something does not feel right about giving people their freedom after 400 years?"

"That is not it. It is the reasoning for this action. It is more than what it seems."

Rhyne smiled. "It always is. We cannot control the future Arthur, but only prepare for it, and defend ourselves as best we can when it comes." Arthur was always shocked by her philosophies. She always spoke true. "You must not worry so much about the future, but only think about what you are doing right here and now."

"I can't help but worry for the lives of the innocent."

"And suddenly you care about the people of this land?"

"Of course."

"When did you ever before?"

"When Rome decided to protect them from the barbarian ways of the native fighters."

"Did you ever think that they wanted that life? The same life that your knights, and myself live?"

"I have, but that is different-"

"How is it different? We are all pagans. But because we serve Rome, and because we are your friends, does that make us better?"

"I never questioned their beliefs, and never will I start."

"But you question mine? Am I suddenly an enemy because of what God I worship?"

"Never. I will never see you as an enemy."

"But Rome will, and already does. Why do you think Rome wants to kill so many native Britons? It is because we are pagan."

"Never have I witnessed such a thing."

"But I have, many times before. The Rome that you always believed existed, never did and never will." With that Rhyne turned her horse and trotted towards the wagon.

Rhyne jumped into the back of the wagon and let the flap fall behind her, keeping out all the light. Jamari and Jarrah were sitting against the side of the wall in the front. "Is she awake?" Rhyne asked cautiously.

Jarrah shook her head. "She has not moved since we helped her back there this morning."

"Call for me when she does." The sisters nodded. Rhyne sat next to Jamari. "I saw you two this morning. Going good is it?" Rhyne smiled. Jamari just nodded, blushing. "And you," she looked across to Jarrah. "I have seen the way Galahad looks at you." Jarrah then had her turn of blushing. Rhyne got up and slipped back up onto Zyfer who was walking next to Novi. Rhyne went in step between Gawain and Galahad.

"They seem pretty bored in there. You two should ask if they would like some fresh air."

"And how are we supposed to do that?" Galahad asked questionably.

Rhyne sniggered. "These horses can hold more than just one rider." She heard a gallop from up ahead and saw Tristan rejoining the group. "Good Luck," and she road ahead once more, leaving more victims in confusion.

"That girl has more magic to her than it would seem," Gawain added to Galahad.

Rhyne waited patiently, riding behind Arthur and Tristan. The scout was filling in their commander on activity ahead. He finally fell into step next to Rhyne. He set Isolde as close to her as possible. They leaned into each other and touched their lips softly. Rhyne felt his arm slink around her waist and she was pulled in front of him.

Tristan buried his face in her neck and held his arms around her waist, pulling her against him. "I missed you," he mumbled against her skin.

Rhyne chuckled. "You were only gone a few hours."

"All the same." Rhyne and Tristan stayed that way until Tristan went scouting once more a few hours later.

* * *

_**Okay, they are finally going back to their fort. Will Sparrow forgive Lancelot? **_


	17. Home Sweet Home

**_Disclaimer: same as before…_**

_**Camreyn: I figured there had not been some humor for a while so i put some in chapters 16 and 17. Then it will get serious again. I am really excited about the coming chapters, we are getting into the movie part now. **_

**_Knightmaiden: Thanks for reading it…and liking it. I do not think Sparrow has the heart to hate Lance, but we will find out. And I have been thinking about making up a character for Dag. I will have to do it now. Any ideas? How about a Woad girl…maybe they will find a 2nd Woad girl in Marius' dungeon…? I will figure something out. _**

_**Tracy 137: Sorry you had to experience something like that…if I ever do I will not hesitate to fight back, no matter what I have to do. I just had to let Rhyne cause that guy more pain, she has got that kind of character. I thought I needed to have Sparrow over react like she did, she young after all. But she really loves Lance…I love your new story…Devon is great. She has the attitude a victim of hurt and rape should have against the kind that did that to her…well, at least that is what I think happened. I am looking forward to what will happen with Lance trying to woo her, we all know he will. And I would love to see some conversations with her and Tris. I think they have to potential of being really close friends. I love it. **_

_**Thanks for being patient guys, I have been taking forever I know. Well, here's the next chappie.**_

Justice Will Rhyne

Chapter Seventeen- Home Sweet Home

Gawain watched Tristan and Rhyne ahead while riding next to Galahad. Gawain sighed. Galahad looked at him. "It almost makes me sick." Gawain looked at his disgusted face.

"Is this your happy face?" Gawain asked amused. Galahad smirked a little. "Galahad, are you telling me you do not want a woman like that. Those two are devoted to each other until death. Not only that, you are the one next to their room for the last week."

"Well, I do think I would enjoy those nights they share," Galahad admitted with a wicked smile. "With any luck we may both have it soon." They rode in silence for a moment, and then Gawain got an idea.

"You remember what Rhyne said, these horses can hold more than just one rider?" Galahad nodded. "Well, look," as he pointed to the couple ahead of them. "I know what she means." Gawain waved Galahad with him as he made his way up towards the wagon.

They reached the wagon riding side by side. Gawain lifted the flap. He saw Jamari and Jarrah whispering and giggling together. They looked over to him when they saw light appear from the opened flap. Jamari instantly blushed. Gawain gave a little smile to her. "Would you care to ride with me Jamari? We're all bored out here."

Jamari gave him a nervous look. "I have never ridden a horse before."

Gawain looked a little shocked. "Never. Did you never go for a ride on the beach or a picnic in the woods?"

"Neither of us have never been outside the fort walls." Gawain tilted his head in surprise. They stared at each other for a moment. Jarrah's giggling broke their trance. "Well, my lady. Allow me to show you the beautiful scenery of Britannia. It is a sunny day. We must treasure it while it lasts." Gawain held his hand out towards her. She now looked terrified at the thought of that huge animal beneath her legs. She took his hand anyway. How could she refuse him?

Gawain helped on to his horse sitting in front of him. She soon as she felt two arms around her waist holding the reins she calmed instantly. She almost trembled at his touch.

Galahad held out his hand to Jarrah. She froze like her sister and shook her head. "Do not worry, nothing will happen to you."

She locked her eyes with his. "Promise," she squeaked.

Galahad smiled. "Yes, I promise." Jarrah took his hand and he helped her onto his horse. She sat in front of him and panicked a little when he went into a trot instead of walk. "Shh, it's okay," he whispered. "You are not going to fall."

* * *

Sparrow was glad when she was finally left alone. Her back was facing the opening of the wagon. She had been awake since the wagon had started its journey. She hated everyone. They thought she was not worthy of holding a sword and meeting her enemies in the field of battle, like they do? Is there such a difference between them? Just then she heard someone else climb into the wagon. They stopped there for a moment and then made their way closer to where she lay.

Sparrow wanted to turn around and see who it was, but she did not, she couldn't. The person sat next to her. She felt them carefully pull the furs up to her shoulders. She was grateful for that, for they now covered most of her face. This person gently laid their hand on her arm and caressed it slowly. Sparrow then knew who it was. She felt the fire in his touch. After a few moments Lancelot finally spoke.

"I'm sorry, my love. I never meant to hurt you." He said it in whisper, as if not trying to wake her. "I may not have shown it, but I was terrified when I saw you on the battlefield. If you died, you would have taken me with you, that is how much I need you."

Sparrow fought with all her strength not to sit up and comfort him then, but she didn't. She hated them. She hated them for doing this to her. He continued. "You are more of a warrior than I was at your age, and one day you will be better then me. I know you can handle yourself on a battlefield, and I know you would be glad to die for a good cause," he refused to let a tear fall by thought of her death. "You are not a child; you are a woman, a warrior. But that can only get you so far, I know that now." Sparrow let a single tear fall.

"Before I fell in love with you, my life was meaningless and empty. I never needed love. I only took what I wanted from women, and it was never love. But at the moment you took my hand that first day, I knew I had changed. I needed you, and I needed love." He paused for a moment.

"I don't want anything to happen to you, my sweet fire. I wish to the gods that you never have to step on a battlefield, that I could change your mind. But I know I couldn't. That is why I agreed with them. I am honored to have you fight by my side, but I will forever worry that one day you, or even I, will leave the other behind."

Sparrow was tearing more now. "I will never leave you," she finally forced out with a shiver. She turned to him and sat up. "If I was to die I would never leave you. I will walk with you in spirit, until it is time for us to be together once more."

Lancelot was a little shocked. He had actually hoped she would not wake, but maybe it was better this way. "I'm sorry," was all he could say.

Sparrow gave a weak smile. She was healing quite fast, but her side still hurt her and she always felt tired, no matter how much she tried to sleep, she couldn't. "No matter how much I try, I could never hate you."

He bowed his head in shame. "I never meant to hurt you."

Sparrow took his hand. "I overreacted. I should not hate you for your opinion. I am sorry for that."

Lancelot crawled closer to her shaking his head. "Never apologize to me, it is not needed." Sparrow smiled and lowered her eyes. Lancelot lifted her chin so his brown eyes met her hazel ones. "I love you. You cause me to feel things I never thought existed."

Sparrow smiled and brushed a few curls away from the dark knight's face. She rested her hand on his cheek and gently pulled his lips to hers. His love for her took him over as he pulled her body to his. Sparrow sneered in pain as he did so. Lancelot quickly let her go. "I'm sorry. Oh Gods, I'm sorry!" His face was covered in worry.

Sparrow laughed. "It's okay. I'm fine. The only person that I will ever allow to hurt me is you. Anyone else I would have definitely hurt you back."

"It hurts me that you are hurt," Lancelot whispered. Their lips met again, but gentler this time.

* * *

Tristan and Rhyne lingered outside the wagon, hearing Sparrow and Lancelot's entire conversation. "I have never heard him speak like that," Tristan pointed out while they trotted ahead of the wagon. "In all the years we have known each other, I have never heard him admit his feelings that way."

"From what people tell me, it is the same between you and me. Sparrow even tells me I am different now that we are together."

"You have always owned a piece of my heart. But with your return it easily took over my whole soul."

Rhyne looked back at him. "It is the same for me. I have never been happier." Tristan engulfed her into a deep kiss. It was broke by the sound of laughing. They looked over to Gawain and Jamari. "And what is so funny?" Rhyne asked in a sarcastic tone.

"I was just laughing at Galahad's face," Gawain explained simply. Rhyne and Tristan then looked over to Galahad and Jarrah.

His face was that of disgust. "What on earth is the matter with you?" Rhyne asked.

"You two should really get a room." Galahad said it quite seriously.

Rhyne smiled. "Don't take it out on me that we get more action than you." Galahad snorted. "Is it that you are not the favorite knight of the barmaids, or do have a problem down south?"

Gawain laughed. She knew how to push his buttons. Tristan even smirked. The knights that were in the vicinity rode a little closer to hear his reaction. Galahad took an angry mask to her. "Actually they are quite fond of the pleasure they receive from me."

"Sure," Rhyne smiled wider. "That is because Lancelot has ignored them, and all that's left is you." Bors erupted with laughter, even Tristan and Dagonet chuckled. Galahad's knuckles went white as he clenched them through his anger, and finally rode ahead of the group.

"That was very cruel," Gawain stated, but smiled none the less.

"Bloody funny though," Bors said still laughing.

"Yeah, well, that's what I'm good for."

* * *

Lancelot finally stepped out of the wagon when they stopped for the night. He tied up his black stallion to a tree and took off all tact and began to brush him down. Rhyne walked over to him with a smile. "Everything is okay I trust." Rhyne leaned against the tree.

Lancelot nodded. "All is well." He paused to look at her. "What of you and Arthur? I overheard some of your conversation."

Rhyne went a little somber. "We do not agree on a few things. But that is to be expected. He is part Roman after all."

"But he is the best man I have ever known, and ever will. He deserves more than what Rome gives him."

"I agree. But I can not get him to even fathom the idea that Rome is corrupt. He refuses to see that Rome is not what he thinks, even though he has never been."

"You and I should try together, but it will be no use. He is stubborn."

"Aren't we all?" They were silent a moment. "Lancelot, you are a good man, and I am proud that one day I may call you family. I am of in need of help for a task I thought I could handle on my own, but it turns out I was wrong."

"And what is that?"

"Arthur. I have seen how deep your friendship runs."

"No deeper than that of you and him."

"I have not been convincing enough."

"Be convincing of what?"

"To make him see the true nature of the world. That is it cruel instead of kind."

"Why must you convince him of this?"

"There is a promise I must fulfill to an old friend. Arthur has a fate that I fear he will refuse to accept, but for good reason. It is because of the man he is, and that he wants to refuse this fate that it must be his."

"I do not understand. What is his fate?"

"That is not important for you to know. But will you help me?" Lancelot had a thousand questions running through his mind. But the one that was most mysterious is what this promise is and what future lies before Arthur.

"Why should I help you?"

Rhyne closed her eyes and recalled the dream she had not but a few months ago. "I feel a storm coming, one that will swallow up us all. The outcome will depend on what Arthur chooses to do. I and an old shaman have come to believe that Arthur is destined for greatness. A greatness that will pass on through the ages and people thousands of years after us will be whispering his name. If this fate is not accomplished then our world will fall into chaos."

"What is his fate?"

"You will understand soon enough, but I need your help." Lancelot went back to grooming his horse. Rhyne sighed. "Lancelot, please." Rhyne set a hand on his shoulder and paused in his grooming. "I just want you to talk with him. He believes in something that does not exist."

Lancelot let out a long breath. "I know. Of all people I know. I hate knowing that when he arrives to Rome he will realize it all at once. I feel I need to tell him, but he has been happy lately knowing our freedom is coming and I do not have the heart to disappoint him about mankind."

"Does this mean you will help me?" Rhyne asked. Lancelot nodded. No more words were exchanged, Rhyne just walked away.

* * *

That night Lancelot carried Sparrow from the wagon so she could enjoy fresh air and join the knights for a meal. There was a long uncomfortable silence between them all. None knew what to say. Sparrow finally spoke. "I'm sorry about what I did yesterday. Just waking from a seven day coma is not very pleasant. I overreacted." No one said anything. What were they supposed to say? Sparrow spoke again. "I thank you for the concern you all showed. You were right, I have been reckless." They all nodded their head in agreement, except for Lancelot and Rhyne. He knew what was coming. Rhyne knew her daughter, and she never let someone put her down without a fight. "But remember this," Sparrow continued, "Whenever you run into battle with an enemy of that sort again, know that I will follow. No matter what orders or what the cost." Sparrow began to stand and Lancelot helped her stand.

Arthur spoke from across the fire. "And what if that cause was your death?" He held a firm voice.

Sparrow stared into his eyes for a moment. Arthur saw them glare with fire. "Then so be it." With that Lancelot helped her back to the wagon.

"She is becoming more like you everyday," Arthur said to Rhyne.

Rhyne snorted. "Better like me than like her father." She regretted it. It was not the first time she had let it is slip.

"You keep saying that," Tristan said looking at her. She saw sadness in his eyes, something no other around the fire saw. Tristan wanted no one else to see it, only Rhyne. _Do not fret my dear Tris, I wish for the Goddess that Sparrow was your father. But life is never that pleasant._ Rhyne took his hand in hers.

"Who is he?" Dagonet asked.

This was the question Rhyne hated more than anything else. She was only asked once by each person who ever knew her. Once she had given them the answer they knew to never bring it up again. "He died, a long time ago. He was not the best of people." Rhyne would not give them a chance to ask more questions. She stood. "We have a long ride tomorrow, we should all sleep." Rhyne then walked over to a tree on the opposite side of the camp area where she and Tristan's saddlebags sat.

Rhyne took out her wool cloak and wrapped her self into it ready to try and sleep. Tristan left the fire and sat next to Rhyne. "Why then?"

"What do you mean?" Rhyne asked, despite that she knew what he meant.

"You know what I mean." His voice moved to the deadly passiveness he used on the battlefield. He would not relent like all the rest always had.

"All you need to know is that I wish, more than you can imagine, that Sparrow could have been yours."

"Will you ever tell me who he really was?"

"I was hoping you would never ask?"

Tristan was a little taken aback. "Why would I not? Do you truly think I, or any of us, would not want to know?"

"I was hoping. But I knew it would come up."

Tristan pulled Rhyne to him. He whispered in her ear. "Please tell me. It will not matter to me who he is. I will still love you."

Rhyne shed a single tear. She didn't speak. He let out a sigh when she didn't and held her tighter. Tristan felt a sting in his heart, something he had not felt for many years, since Gareth died. No matter the reason for Rhyne's pregnancy and birth of Sparrow, he still was sad the child could not be his. He never thought about what it was like to have a child until Rhyne walked back into his life with Sparrow in tow. And now he knew he wanted to be a father more than anything. But what if Rhyne was raped, and can have no more children? _Is that why she will not tell me? I may never have a child of my own. _His heart lurched in pain.

At that moment Tristan made a vow. No matter whom Sparrow's true father was, whether Rhyne loved him, or was raped, he would never forsake her. He would try, with all his heart, to be a father to Sparrow. For there is a good chance she could be the only "child" he would ever have.

* * *

The knights arrived to the fortfour days later without any problems, with exception to Sparrow's constant complaining. Every minute of everyday she badgered the knights to let her ride. Finally, just before they reached the fort, Lancelot had enough and let her ride in front of him on his horse. Sparrow felt a little jolt of pain each time the horse stepped, but she was where she was happiest.

The closeness between her and Lancelot drowned out the pain of her wounds. He was intoxicating. Sparrow leaned her head on his shoulder when the fort came into view. He smiled and softly kissed her neck. She leaned into his lips and he blew air onto her skin. Sparrow shuddered and rubbed her hands on his thighs. Lancelot felt a shot of desire move up his spine.

"Keep doing that and I will have to take you in back of the wagon," he whispered heavily in her ear.

Sparrow looked at him. "You wouldn't dare!" she spoke with a mocking insult.

Lancelot grinned evilly and turned his horse around heading for the wagon. Sparrow was laughing as she struggled uselessly. They got behind the wagon and Lancelot lifted the curtain to climb in. Sparrow stopped laughing instantly to what Lancelot and she interrupted. Gawain was sitting against the wall of the wagon with Jamari straddling his lap. They both looked up from their kiss to see their intruders. Gawain instantly moved Jamari off his lap like it was nothing.

Sparrow smiled. "It's a little late for that, isn't it?" Lancelot started to laugh out loud as both Gawain and Jamari blushed. Lancelot let down the flap, still laughing, and they trotted back up to where they were before.

The caravan came down the hill and walked along the outside of the Wall of their own fort. Tristan and Rhyne rode next to each other as Lancelot rode up with Sparrow sitting in front of him. Rhyne chuckled. "Did you have enough of her complaining?" she asked Lancelot.

He smiled. "Her mouth is worse than yours." Sparrow looked insulted. "But, I missed her being up against me," and he pulled closer to him gently.

Rhyne laughed. "Okay, okay. More than I want to know. Just keep those comments to yourself from now on. It's my daughter you're talking about." They trotted into the gates and the swarm of people before them made a path. They traveled through the market just before sundown.

Rhyne noticed some children playing to her right. A young raven-haired girl picked up a long stick. "I am Rhyne, Shieldmaiden of Britain and Wielder of the Witch Blade!" she yelled at her young male companion with confidence.

Rhyne raised her brow. Lancelot and Sparrow had seen the children too. "Witch blade?" Lancelot asked her. Rhyne just shrugged.

The dark-haired boy in front of her picked up a long stick and broke it in half with his knee. "And I am Lancelot, Bearer of Two Swords and Great Charmer of the Ladies!" The two were about ten years old.

Rhyne covered her mouth trying to keep in the laughter. Tristan looked at Lancelot and Sparrow who were laughing silently. "Did you rehearse with him?" he asked sarcastically, even Tristan couldn't help the smile he showed.

The two children started to spar each other. The girl seemed to attack him more while he blocked. He could not control both sticks accurately and she sent one flying out of his hand. Rhyne laughed mockingly. Lancelot scowled.

The young boy then countered her high strike and knocked away her sword while pinning her against a column. Lancelot grinned his grin to Rhyne. She kept her eyes on the children. The young boy leaned down to kiss her, Lancelot started to laugh out loud, when suddenly the girl brought her knee up hard to his groin. Lancelot stopped and Rhyne's voice took his place, along with Sparrow. Lancelot even heard Tristan chuckling. The boy fell onto his knees in pain. The girl stood over him with hands on her hips. "Nobody kisses me, without permission."

Rhyne smiled. "Now that's a girl of my own heart!" Then she looked over to Lancelot. "It looks like I win." Rhyne looked back over to the young ones.

The girl knelt next to the hurting boy. The girl put her hand on his cheek. "Did I hurt you badly?" she asked softly.

The boy looked at her. "Oh no. I just do this for fun." She kissed his forehead and helped him to his feet.

"Well, that is not really the way I would have handled it," as they made their way to the knight's courtyard.

Vanora and her and Bors' brood came and met the newly arrived knights. Bors approached her. She slapped him before he could say anything. "You have you been? I have been waiting for you!" Bors engulfed her in a passionate kiss.

Rhyne chuckled as she led Zyfer to the stables. Tristan followed her with Isolde. They began to groom their horses in silence, as Jols led in the other knights' horses. He unbridled and unsaddled all of them before telling the other two he would be back later.

Both Rhyne and Tristan knew he had nothing else to do tonight except for grooming the horses. He just always gave them a little privacy whenever they came back from a ride to groom their horses, since they liked doing it themselves.

A companionable silence passed over them as they groom their horses together. They glanced at each other every few minutes and exchanged smiles. Rhyne looked over to Isolde's stall as she was putting away her brush, and Tristan was nowhere in sight. She looked over to the doors of the stable and he was not there either. Then she felt two arms slink around her waist from behind. Rhyne jumped slightly, but knew the hands that touched her. She turned to face Tristan. "You scared me," she whispered and wrapped her arms around his neck.

Tristan set his forehead against Rhyne's. "You didn't look scared."

She shook her head. "I mean when you disappeared. I began to worry. Don't do that again." She fingered with one of his braids.

Tristan smiled. She brushed the stray hairs away from his face and pulled him closer until their lips met. Their passion grew stronger with each fleeting moment. He picked her up in his arms and walked her to his room. Tristan kicked the door shut behind him.

They quickly undid each others armor until only their tunic and trousers were left. They each tumbled onto the bed behind them. Tristan lifted her tunic and revealed her torso. He kissed her skin. The tickles of his beard sent chills of pleasure up her spine. _Home Sweet Home_, Rhyne thought before her senses took over.


	18. Voices

**_Disclaimer: same as before…_**

**_Tracy 137: I love the Galahad bashers. I just can't resist, he is just so vulnerable for some reason. Maybe it is because he is a little bit of a complainer, which does make him a baby…ummm. Personally, I think I give my trust to new people too soon. Though every once in while a person comes that I know from first impressions there will be some reason why I will not trust him. I met someone like that this past year while living in the dorms…I think after meeting him I king of learned that I should not be too quick to trust people. Anyways…enough grim talk…I have loved your latest chapters. Devon and Dag are so adorable. And making Tris and Devon blood kin was a great idea…an he is so stubborn, trying to go after Devon when he could very well die himself…in fact Lance is too…but Tris is almost more….ahhh…but we love them anyway. and I hope Devon doesn't die…that would be depressing. And the story of her parents was horribly sad…I was teary eyed after reading that chapter. And the battle scene was good. Don't you love writing those…I can't wait til I write my next one. It will be soon. I love Devon…_**

_**Knight Maiden: Glad you liked it. It will be getting really exciting very soon. You will see when you read this chapter. I think I will have Dag meet someone at the battle…or find another woman in Marius' dungeon…one of the two…and I will be writing some of the story after the end of the movie…so I can advance a little on all relationships and stuff…maybe there will even be a sequel…who knows…thanks for reading.**_

_**Camreyn: Yea…I messed that up…oops..sorry about that…I guess I didn't edit it close enough…I hope everyone figured out what it was suppose to say…anyway…glad you liked it. It will be getting better in the next chapters…the bishop comes to town and into the movie we will go…thanks for reading.**_

_**Priestess of Myrmidon: Yea, I know she's a Mary Sue, but there is hardly a story that does not have a Mary Sue…thanks for reading and reviewing. Hope you like the rest of it.**_

_**lucillaq: I always thought, that underneath all of Lance's arrogance and BS that he would be a very honest and truthful and romantic and tender as I showed him there. I think that is the way he would be if he were truly in love…and I think he is. Thanks for liking that little kids part…I think I am going to put them in again later.**_

**_Countess Jackman: Loved your dance…hehehe…I really wanted to keep the fueding between her and Arthur going to get is faultering belief in Rome growing. Thanks for liking it. _**

_**Sorry this took so long guys…my laptop was giving me problems…but finally got it finished…and the next one should be soon. **_

Justice Will Rhyne

Chapter Eighteen-Voices

Tristan woke with a knock at their door as the sun came flowing through the window. He untangled himself from a still sleeping Rhyne and sloppily threw on a tunic and trousers, not bothering to tie up any before recovering Rhyne with the linens before answering the door. He found Lancelot at the door. "Good Morning, Tristan!" he stated loud enough for the whole hall to hear. Tristan hushed him while looking back to the bed. Rhyne shifted slightly, but did not wake. A huge grin covered Lancelot's face as Tristan turned back to him. "Arthur wants everyone at the Round Table in one hour," and Lancelot started to make his way to the next knight.

Tristan closed the door softly and crawled back into the bed. He watched Rhyne sleep for a few moments. She looked older as she lay in her dreams, and he had noticed that she rarely looked peaceful in this state. He kissed her forehead and she stirred with a smile. Rhyne snuggled closer to him and Tristan put an arm around her. "Arthur has called a meeting," he whispered into her ear.

Rhyne groaned. "Why is he always in such a hurry?"

Tristan smiled. "He probably gets little sleep, kind of like someone else I know," he teased.

With her eyes still closed she brought her hand up to his cheek. "He needs to find a girl. He seems so lonely. I rarely ever see him smile, even less than you. Well, considering I don't know how much you smiled before."

"Aye," Tristan agreed.

After a few moments he began tracing where he knew she held the wings over her upper back. She caressed one of the slash tattoos on his cheek. They knew each others bodies so well that sight was no longer needed. "We should begin to ready ourselves," Tristan said. With great reluctance Rhyne finally opened her eyes with a groan. Rhyne wet her hair and let Tristan comb out the knots. She rubbed a few oils over her skin and in her hair to refresh herself. She pulled the gown Vanora gave her over her head and decided to leave her hair down naturally.

Tristan pulled his fingers through the length of her hair, which lay down to her hips. "I never noticed your hair was this long. You always have it up or in braids."

"I very well could not fight with my hair down like this, now could I?" She asked.

Tristan turned her so she was facing him. "I guess not." He moved a few strands of hair from her face and pulled her into a kiss. When they come up for a breath Rhyne lay her head against his chest. "Oh, Tris," she sighed. He lay his head on top of hers.

* * *

They finally made their way to the Round Table. They were the first to arrive besides Arthur. He looked up as they walked in. Rhyne noticed his beaming face. "What happened to you?" Rhyne asked enthusiastically. "You are smiling."

Arthur said nothing in return, just smiled broader. "What on earth makes you so happy that you have to get us up so early?" Arthur still didn't answer. Whatever it was, he wanted to wait for everyone to get there.

Lancelot walked in, followed by Bors and Dagonet. "Lancelot," Rhyne yelled across the room. "Do you know what's going on? I'm getting nothing from Commander over here," she said pointing towards Arthur.

"You know just as much as me," Lancelot answered with an annoyed tone. He must have been getting the question all morning.

"What in bloody hell's name is he so happy about?" Bors bellowed.

"Nobody knows," Rhyne called.

"Well, it bloody well be damned good to get me up this early when we are supposed to be on leave for a few days. I was busy trying to make another little one!"

"Aren't you always doing that?" Gawain asked as he walked in. Galahad came after him and looked to grumpiest of all of them. Rhyne was going to nag on him, but did not want to flare his anger this early in the morning.

As the last two took their seats cups of wine were served to each at the table and Arthur stood. "I know we are on leave as of this moment, but I could not wait to tell you this news." _This better be good_, all the knights thought in unison. "Early this morning a messenger arrived at the fort with a message from Bishop Germanus of Rome. He landed on our southern shores three days ago and should be here in two weeks." He paused.

"What does this have to do with us?" Lancelot asked grimly. All the other knights nodded.

Arthur took a deep breath before continuing. "They will send another messenger when they are two days away and then we shall ride out and escort them the rest of the way to the fort."

"Why are you so happy about this?" Lancelot asked purely infuriated. _Who cares if we were going to have a Roman bishop at the fort_, they all thought.

"This has to do with us because the Bishop comes bearing our discharge papers."

There was sudden silence in the room, as if making sure it was not a dream. Rhyne looked around to each of them and raised her brow. "Well," and they all looked at her. "For a bunch of knights who are about to receive their freedom after fifteen years of service you look extremely happy," she stated sarcastically.

The silence was finally when Bors erupted with laughter, and then the other knights started to laugh as well. They all stood embracing one another. Emotion began to take hold of them, and one by one, each knight began to cry with happiness. Tristan took Rhyne in his arms and kissed her deeply. Then he swung her around in joy. He put her back on her feet and hugged her tightly. Rhyne back away out of the hug and set her forehead on hers. He looked down from her, trying to hide his face. Rhyne was instantly concerned. "Tris, what's wrong?" She brushed his hair from his face and saw something glistening on his cheeks. Rhyne gasped with a smile. "Tris, you're crying," she whispered. He buried his face in her neck, and she felt his tears on her skin. She pulled away and wiped his tears. They shared one more kiss and she moved into the direction of Arthur.

Rhyne embraced the man that had long been her brother. No words were said, none needed to be. Everything was as is should be, everything except the near future. Rhyne celebrated with them, but inwardly, she knew the storm was close and a great bloodshed was near. Behind her smile was sadness. Three swords will mark three new graves before Britain was to be free. Three of the men before her will die before this is over, and that is what she has come to stop. Two years ago she had failed to save the knight from her first vision, but this time she would not. This time, she will fight against the evil forces that will keep these men from their fate.

Arthur spoke over the celebrations. "Men, in honor of this news, tonight we shall celebrate and dine here at the Round Table." There were cheers.

"Yes," Bors bellowed. "And tomorrow morning I will have Vanora hold the tavern for us and make breakfast." There were more cheers.

The celebrations died down slowly as they all remembered what time it was. Rhyne pulled Tristan out of the room without the others noticing. "Come with me." He followed her in silence up to the battlements.

"This is your favorite place isn't?" Tristan teased.

"The only place other than our bed," Rhyne teased back with a suggestive voice. Tristan answered with a passionate kiss. He pinned her against the crenulated wall which was the only thing keeping them from falling into the trees of the North. When they came up to breathe Rhyne asked, "What is the point of being up here if we don't take in the view?"

Rhyne turned and appreciated the warmth of the sun. It was a cool morning, and there were storm clouds in the distance. But the sky was clear above them. There was a breeze coming from the north. Rhyne closed her eyes and lifted her head in welcome. There was a hum floating on the wind. At first Tristan thought it was just the wind flowing through the trees, but it was more than that. There was an actual voice. He looked around him, but there was no one in sight. There was only one more explanation, there had to be someone in the trees. He started for the stairs but was stopped by Rhyne taking his arm. "No." Tristan was taken aback. "There is no one in the trees," Rhyne assured him.

"Then where?"

"Come," she pulled him back next to her. "Listen." He listened intently for the hum once more. But now it was words, in a language he didn't understand. Rhyne started to sing along with the voice:

_'Sí an ghealach,  
mall san oíche.  
'Sí an ghrian.  
Fán liom go deo._

_Hoireann is O Hi O Ho ra Ha._

_'Sí na Samhna,  
tús na Bliain Úr.  
'Sí an crann marbh.  
Deireadh an tua._

_Hoireann is O Ho O Ho ro Ho.  
Hoireann is O Ho O Ho ro Ho_.

The wind then wrapped around her body, and Tristan heard it whisper Rhyne's name, and she smiled. Then the gust wrapped around him. He felt warmth on his cheek, as if a hand caressed the skin, and it whispered his name in turn. The voice was humming again as both the wind and the voice slowly died away.

Tristan was in shock for a moment. He looked over to Rhyne who still had her eyes on the sun in the distance. Up on the battlements was the only time Tristan ever saw her peaceful. She was in bliss when she was connected with the natural world. "What was that?" he asked when finally able to speak over the shock.

"The voice?" Rhyne looked at him softly. She sighed and then spoke. "That was my mother." Tristan looked at her, still in shock. "She often comes to me on the wind, only briefly, but she comes." He was still looking for more. "She used to sing me to sleep every night. When she comes to me it is usually in song, with the wind."

"I felt something on my face?"

Rhyne smiled. "She touched you?" she asked with a raised brow. He nodded. "She must like you then. Father as well."

"He comes to you too?"

"In dreams sometimes, but not as much as Mother."

"The song, what does it mean?"

"It is in the language of my mother's people, my people. The same as Merlin's people, but a bit of a different dialect. The words of the song are:

It is the Moon,  
late in the night.  
It is the Sun.  
Stay with me forever.

It is Samhain,  
beginning of the New Year.  
It's the dead tree.  
End of the tribe.

"My mother is of the Novantae Tribe. As far as we know, she was the last of the royal line, so now it is only I, and Sparrow of course."

"You are a British Princess?"

"Well, if you want to put it that way," she sniggered. "But if I am indeed the last, it would make me Queen, and Sparrow Princess. That is why I have a British dragon on my arm," motioning her shoulder towards him. "The dragon is the symbol of the Novantae. I am protected by the dragon of both bloods. The dragon is also the symbol of the Massagentae, my father's people."

Rhyne looked at him, but he was silent, taking it all in. "You truly are magical," he said after a moment.

She smiled. "That's what I'm told." She sighed. "A British Shaman once told me I was a very gifted witch, skilled enough to be a Priestess of Avalon. But I would have to leave my sword behind, I wouldn't. It has never been in my destiny to become a Priestess. I was born a warrior, like my mother, my father. My magic could be more powerful if I chose the other path."

They were silent for some time after that, taking in the warmth of the sun. Rhyne took his hand. "Can we go to my other favorite place now?" she asked suggestively. Tristan picked her up in his arms and walked back to the resident halls.

* * *

Lancelot walked into the door of his, and now Sparrow's room. She stood at the window staring at the morning sky. Light flowed over her skin making it a warm gold. Her eyes her amber jewels in the sunlight. "What is the news?" she asked without looking away from the sun.

Lancelot walked over and put his arms around her shoulders. One of her hands sat on his wrist. He lay quiet for a while. She did not ask again, just waited patiently. "A messenger came early this morning. A bishop of Rome landed a few days ago and will be here within two weeks. We will escort him during the last day."

"Why did Arthur call a meeting this early for that?" she asked calmly.

Lancelot smiled widely. "Because he comes in company with our discharge papers. In two weeks, we will be free."

Sparrow did not respond. She just stared to the north. It looked as if there was a spell on her. Her eyes were wistful. Each time there was a breeze she lifted her head slightly and smiled. After what seemed like hours Sparrow turned to face him. She traced one finger over his face and then put her hand on his neck and pulled him into a soft kiss. She pulled away and took his hand in hers. "Come," and she led him out of the room.

They walked towards Arthur's quarters. "Where are we going?" he asked.

Sparrow just quieted him. She led him to a small alley in between the west wall of the fort and Arthur's room. There was only room to walk single-file. Sparrow uncovered a trap door with her hand and pulled it opened to an underground passage about five feet down and led underneath the Wall. She jumped in followed by Lancelot and came up on outside the west wall. "How did you know about this place?"

"Didn't you?"

"Yes, but how did you?"

She smiled. "My mother told me about it in stories. The first night we arrived I came to find it. I did not expect it to be real. She said her father, my grandfather showed it to her in case the fort was ever attacked. And she and Tristan used it all the time to get out of the fort."

Lancelot was surprised. He knew they spent a lot of time together before she was taken, but not that much time. She covered the door up with leaves and dirt, then took his hand again and led him into the trees. "Where are we going?" Sparrow didn't answer, or even look at him, just kept leading him further into the forest. After a few moments he heard a roar in the distance and it kept getting louder. Suddenly, the trees opened up and a series of small waterfalls lay before them. Sparrow let go of Lancelot's hand and walked to the water's edge.

"This is where Tristan and mother sat when they wanted to escape the fort. Where she conversed with her own parents after their death, and where she meditated to the Goddess when needed." She looked back at him for a moment and then started to untie her boots. Then she slid off her tunic and trousers, leaving her naked. She walked knee-deep into the water then looked back again. Sparrow smiled at him. "Are you coming?"

Lancelot began to undress and then chased into the water after her…

* * *

That night, all the knights, as well as Rhyne, Sparrow, Vanora, Jarrah and Jamari sat at the Round Table waiting for their food to arrive. Rhyne sat silently next to Tristan, both watching their fellow brothers.

In their companionable silence she suddenly remembered something. _Will Tris want to go back to Sarmatia? This is my home, I can't leave._ Her heart constricted at the thought that they could be separated again. Rhyne squeezed his hand tight and Tristan looked at her. He could see something was on her mind. "What is it?" he asked mildly concerned.

Rhyne looked at him and gave a masked smile. "Just thinking is all," and she looked away from him. He knew she was lying to him, he could see it in her eyes. They were glowing just a few minutes ago, and now the fire was burnt out.

"What were you thinking about?"

She gave him another fake smile. "Just about the next few weeks." If this was indeed the last weeks they would share together, then she did not want to think about it coming to an end, and would cherish every waking moment. She pushed the thought aside and focused on the moment at hand.

The food had arrived and plates were set before all of them. It was far better food than what was served at the tavern, but that was always quickly made and quickly served. Tonight, time was taken and it was as fine as it could be for a military fort.

The night was full of laughter and games. Freedom was the wish of every human being in mankind, why not celebrate. They will finally have peace in their lives and lay down their swords after fighting for a cause that was not their own. Or was it?

Rhyne ate her meal without a word. She did not even look up from her plate. She chugged the last of her wine and sat back in her chair. All the noise was still going on around her, trying to ignore it, but she could not fade it out. She started to become dizzy, and she closed her eyes, but it only made it worse.

Everything that she did not want to think of at that moment came forward, and unable to control her thoughts, all bad memories came rushing to the open.

_Father, must you go…this is a death mission…ten years old and you understand the cruelness of the world…I will return to you…he never returned, never would he hold me again in this life, he went like mother…do not loose hope, he is not alone…_

_Tristan, I'm afraid…you will be back…I will miss you most of all…we will meet again…in this life or the next…_

_Conner…I will watch out for you…how do you know when you love someone…when you think of them every waking moment…I am always thinking of you…I'm sorry Conner…please, stop…do not touch me…I will touch you if I wish…NO…this is what your disobedience has become…NO…leave him…you have doomed him to death…Conner…I'm sorry…_

_Go…and go quickly…I shall frame your escape…why…no woman deserves this…especially when with child…_

_Who are you child…the daughter of the Novantae…and of Sarmatia…you will stay with us…_

_What are you doing…I can't have this child…it is that of a demon…it must die…along with me…you have suffered greatly…your vengeance will be even greater…I want nothing but death…the child is cursed, as am I…_

Rhyne could no longer see what was in front of her. No, she had to stop them, or she would cause her brain damage. She forced herself to think of the few good memories that she has had. They may be few but they were great.

_Tell me of your knights mother…they are the greatest warriors that roam this land, and fight against the worse of evils…one day, many years from now, all mankind will know their names…Tristan…_

_I love you…I have loved you for fourteen years…do you know what you do to me…freedom…_

No, she was drifting again into her dark present.

_We will be separated once more…our papers shall be here in two weeks…three knights shall die if you do not fight fate…the coming storm shall be great…three swords mark three new graves…Gareth…I'm sorry I was not there for you…You have come back to me…Gareth, fight it…I will never leave your side…none of us ever have…especially Tris…_

_We will meet again…in this life or the next…or the next…justice…your path…they followed theirs…you follow yours…sword…justice…we will meet again…sword in your hand…justice…peace…chaos…death…_

Then she heard a scream, not realizing it was her own. Her vision was blurred, and could still see nothing in front for her. She was struggling against something. Something was poured over her face and she coughed wildly. Rhyne heard muffled voices, but did not understand them. They were getting fainter, until finally all was black, and silence took her.

All she knew is that she was running. She did not know what from, but her feet were moving underneath her. She did not have the courage to look back. There was nothing but endless blackness in front of her and she did not even feel the solidness of ground beneath her. She finally glanced behind her and woke with a blood curdling scream.

Rhyne found her self sitting up on the Round Table room floor. Everyone was crowded around her. Tears were falling down her face and her hands were shaking violently. The only person she saw clearly was Tristan, who was kneeling in front of her. When she finally got strength enough to speak she look into his eyes. "I'm sorry."

Tristan didn't change his expression. "For what?" he asked calmly. But she didn't answer, just lifted herself onto her feet as best she could and made for the door behind her. Lancelot grabbed her arm, but before he could say anything she turned around in a violent rage, one they had never seen. "Don't touch me!" Lancelot obeyed quickly and stepped away from her. They all saw that her normal green eyes were red with fury. All of them, even if it was for one instant, were scared of her.

Rhyne left the room as best she could with what strength she held. Tristan willed himself to go after her, but even he could not stand up to the rage she held for that moment. All looked to Sparrow for an answer. "What was that?" Arthur asked her.

Sparrow looked to the floor and closed her eyes. "There is only one other time in my life that I ever remember seeing her like that." She paused for a moment, vividly seeing the memory before her eyes…

"_Are you sure, child?" Merlin asked her. "You know what kind of life the sword brings."_

_Rhyne looked down at Sparrow who was standing beside her. She was the spitting image of her mother. Rhyne bent down to be eye level with her. "My Darling, there is something I have to do now. Our lives will change because of it."_

"_What are you saying Mama?" _

"_Before you were born, bad things happened to me, things that I need to fix. Remember all the stories I have told you about your grandfather?" Sparrow nodded. "I have to be like him now. I have to fight against those bad people that he fought. Do you understand?"_

"_Yes, Mama. If you have to fight, I will too. I want to be like grandfather." Rhyne smiled proudly and hugged her child. _

"_You will be, Sparrow. One day, you will be." Rhyne stood and looked a Merlin. "I'm ready, Merlin. I can not let them go unpunished."_

_Merlin bowed his head to her, and Rhyne did the same. "Very well." Merlin opened a chest near him and took out a sword. "You will need this," and he tossed it to Rhyne. _

_Rhyne caught the sword by its hilt. She looked it over. A dragon made the hilt, and held etching down the blade. She smiled. She swung the blade around her like one never left her hand. Her eyes lost their emerald green as she danced with that sword. They glowed red, and all the hate she had buried years ago flowed through her veins. From that moment she had changed from a lost soul, to a warrior…_

Sparrow remembered that day well. Their lives had changed, her mother changed. Since that moment she was a warrior, and forever will she be. That is the life she was born for, and that is what she will die as. That was also the day Sparrow vowed to herself that she would follow her mother no matter what path of life she took, and if it be the warrior, so be it. Pushing back the memory she remember those standing around her were waiting for an answer. "When she took a sword back in her hand for the first time since she left all of you, she held that rage. Years later I asked her why she held so much hate as she did. She told me something that day that I will never forget: 'All at once, everything I loved was taken from me, including my will to live. My rage is the only thing willing me to go on, nothing more'."

The knights were stricken by this news, but still held a little happiness. They were dumbfounded that they meant that much to her. And for that reason all their hearts went out to her at once. What happened to her that she held so much rage? They knew of the death of her parents in the same year, and her being taken away from them, but that couldn't be it, to hold that much hate. There had to be something else. But what?

"Do you know what happened to her?" Bors asked, in tears for his dear friend.

"No more than you. She never told me." None thought they would ever hold a smile again.

* * *

Rhyne slowly walked up to the only place she felt peaceful, the battlements overlooking the forests of the North. She stood with both hands leaning against the wall looking out in the untamed wilds of the north. Rhyne stood there silently, trying to regain control of her mind and her rage. She heard the thunder crack above her and rain started to pour down from the blackened sky. She closed her eyes and moved her head up to face the sky. Rain was a welcoming feeling compared to the fire that burnt inside of her, yet it still failed to put it out. She focused so hard on trying to calm herself inwardly that she failed to hear the footsteps approaching behind her.

"Can you tell me how it is possible that a soul as good as yours can harness so much rage?"

Rhyne did not jump at the awareness of his voice; she was too furious for that. She calmly turned to the voice and saw Arthur standing before her. He saw her eyes were still ablaze with wrath.

"Here I thought I had seen everything I ever would of hate when that curse of yours was born into the world," there was a pause, "but sadly, I was _wrong_." The last word was said with much distaste.

Rhyne looked Arthur in the eye and got a deadly smirk on her face, as if her were the enemy. "Does it bother you, Arthur that even though you were taught of this sort of hate, you have never seen it until now, and in a friend no less?" She was challenging him.

"Yes, it does," she said sternly and without question. "I kill men, but I do not hate them. It is my duty to rid this world of their evil."

Rhyne snorted. "Duty is useless, especially when it is to Rome." She sharpened his gaze on him. "Are you telling me that never in your life did you ever feel hate?"

"Only for one person."

"Merlin," Rhyne said quickly. It was shortly after their father's died was his mother killed by Woads. Arthur had hated him since that moment. Rhyne had as well, but once she met the Shaman, she would from then on love him as family. "It is hard for me to not reject hate. It makes some things easier, so I do sometimes let it take me over."

"Allowing hate to seize you is what brings mankind into war. If hate was rejected by everyone peace would forever reign over the world." Arthur retorted.

Rhyne chuckled. "That will never happen. Some are born to hate and kill. And sometimes it is hate that saves you from death."

"That's blasphemy! That leads you down a path to damnation!" he debated.

Rhyne stood still against his raised voice. She has never once feared him, not even when they were young. "You and your religion," she jested. "You should be preaching to your own Romans, not me. They are the ones that should be taught."

Arthur stood silent for a moment. "I do not understand what you mean."

Rhyne sighed. "You speak of me about the hate and inhumanity that I show to others, when the ones you should be talking to is your own kind." Arthur still didn't understand. "For years Rome has been trying to keep 'barbarian' cultures in control, when the only ones that really need to be kept in control are the very ones that rule the world. They are the true 'barbarians' in our world." Rhyne said it calmly, but sternly.

The use of 'barbarian' caught Arthur's attention. "Why do you call us such a thing?" he asked angrily.

Rhyne was now resenting his anger. "I would love nothing more than to see Rome fall, and if they keep progressing as they are, they soon will," she spoke forcefully.

Arthur now looked a little distressed in the midst of his anger. "Why do you hate Rome so much?"

"Because they are the ones that taught me hate. They are the ones that showed me what it is to hate!"

"Why?" Arthur pleaded.

Rhyne was losing her patience with him. "Because of what they did to me. So many times have they scarred my soul and I will never forgive them." Rhyne started to lift her tunic she wore over her head.

Arthur hesitated. "What are you-" but the amazement of what he saw before him stopped him from speaking any further. He saw the scars covering her torso. Her breasts were covered by the cloth wrap, but the rest of the skin above her hips was bare. Scars criss crossed her stomach and the top of her chest. Then she turned her back to him and Arthur gasped at the sight. Dozens of long narrow scars slithered down her back like old red snakes were embedded into her skin. A few rounded around to her left side across her ribs. Seeing these he suddenly saw many on her arms. They are not as visible as the others because years of being outside under the sun had faded the reddish pink color that all the others bore.

Arthur was silent for a long while and just stared into her eyes as she turned to face him once more and slipper her tunic back on. "What…," was all he could muster.

Rhyne gave a deadly look at him. "It is the work of your Rome and your God. This is how he answers your prayers of peace. But this is not all they have left. There are many scars they have left on my very soul."

Arthur could not believe what he was hearing. "What do you mean?"

_Can he be any more blind,_ Rhyne asked herself. She let out a long breath. "What I mean is that these scars were given to me in the name of your God by the hands of your Romans."

Arthur shook his head disbelievingly. "It can't be. You must have been mistaken," he looked at her desperately.

"Say what you like," Rhyne said. "Whatever makes you feel better."

"I have never heard of Rome doing such a thing."

"That is because you are always on your knees begging for forgiveness," Rhyne shot back. Arthur grimaced at her bitterness. "So how much faith do you have in your Rome now?" Rhyne asked him before she began to walk away, but then stopped once more to face him. "I want you to remember something Arthur: Only the dead see the end of war," reminding him of when Pelagius had them study the thought of the Greek philosopher Plato, long ago. Rhyne walked off down the steps of the battlements.

* * *

Hope you liked it...


	19. Cuts, Kisses, and Songs

**_Disclaimer: same as before…and I use another Enya song and a toby kieth song in this chapter…I hope you like it_**

**_Tracy 137: Well…I don't think you have anything to worry about, killing anyone that is…I think…And we will find out who Sparrow's father is before the end of the story…I will not leave you hanging…that part you learn everything about Rhyne. It is going to be very intense scene…I hope I write it that well anyway…it sounds good in my head, but we all know it is different when on paper…anyways…and I do love writing about the truly perfect relationships…though even in our stories they have their tifts, but it always end well…I read your latest chapter for Heart and Soul…wow, let me say intense…I know I gave you a review already but I just want to say this again…Tris and Calliean are so cute. I was wondering if you were going to have him end up with someone…I hope they do…that kiss was great, even though he was kind of under a spell, but the end of it was real right? and what he said to her was amazing…and when they first set eyes on each other was so cute….and I'm sorry this took so long…I hit a little case of writer's block, but it is up now…and then when I finish my chapter our internet gets jacked up for a week…I was going crazy…I really hate letting the readers down like that…well, here it is_**

_**Knightmaiden: Well, after a lot of problems, writer's block and internet problems, here is chapter 19..finally. And it is my longest yet. Drama, humor, romance….I hope this chapter will make up for how long it took to get up.**_

_**lucillaq: I really want her to have a little bit of magic in her…nothing huge…she's no wizard…but little things…like making her yell like a roar, are a few things she can do…and more will show through soon…**_

_**Cameryn: Thanks….and thanks for being one who consistently reads and reviews…I really appreciate it…**_

_**Priestess of Myrmidon: we all try not to write mary-sue's…but most all are…oh well…**_

_**Everyone……..I am so sorry this took so long. I have been really upset about it too. First I have a little writer's block, and then when I finally get the Chapter done my internet is down for a week. I have worked hard on this chapter, and it is my longest let, and I hope one of the best. There is drama, humor, romance...a little bit of everything. I hate letting you guys down like that…I hope I can make it up to you with this chapter…enjoy…**_

Justice Will Rhyne

Chapter Nineteen- Cuts, Kisses and Songs

Rhyne walked past the room she shared with Tristan and went straight into the room that was ordained as hers when she and Sparrow first arrived. She opened the window to the pouring rain and breathed in the moist air for a moment. Usually, weather like this would bring her to peace. But when her rage ran this wild, there is only one thing that would calm her. She suddenly remembered that night, a few weeks ago, when the rain was pouring much like this, and her and Tristan came together for the first time. Rhyne smiled at the memory but it soon faded to the sadness the next days would soon bring. This is what started her outbreak, it needed to stop. Quickly, so no one would see her she ran into the room to her left and took her belongings that she could carry in one trip, and ran back to her own room. Setting her small bag of clothes that she owned, another small bag that held her own supply of herbs and magical tools, and Titan, along with the Dragon.

She opened the bag with her magical supplies and took out a small pouch of a certain herb and some incense. Rhyne lit a fire and all the candles that were scattered around the room. She threw a small amount of witch hazel into the fire and sat down before it. Rhyne began to clear her mind so she could meditate and calm her rage, but there was a knock at the door. She cursed under her breath and stood to answer it. She found Sparrow looking in on her.

"Are you alright, Mother?" she asked.

"I'm fine, but let no one interrupt me, I am trying to meditate." Rhyne shut the door and sat back down in front of the fire. But as soon as she closed her eyes there was another knock at the door. She cursed louder this time as she went to the door a second time. It was Lancelot.

"Are you sure you are okay? We are all worried," he asked concerned.

Rhyne heaved out a breath. "Like I said before, I'm fine," and she slammed the door on him. Before she could sit before the fire once more the door swung open and Tristan marched into the room. He stood before the door he just slammed shut and crossed his arms on his chest. His face was passive, but she saw anger in his eyes. "What's going on?"

"I'm trying to meditate, but I keep getting interrupted, that's what's going on," she spoke sternly.

"What happened in there?"

Rhyne sighed. "I had a vision, that's all."

"It didn't look like it was all. I have never seen such rage; your eyes were on fire. You spoke like a lion."

"Bad memories," she said as she closed her eyes.

Tristan snorted and stalked over to her. "I'm sick of hearing lies," he said angrily.

"It's not a lie," she forced at him.

"Then what memories are so horrible that you can't tell anyone?" Tristan was standing directly in front of her now.

"Mine are."

"Tell me Rhyne."

"No." Both of their voices were getting louder.

"Those scars you have are no ordinary scars. I am not leaving this room until you tell me."

"Fine," she growled. "Then I will leave." Rhyne made her way to the door but Tristan grabbed her wrist and pulled her back to him. She struggled against his strength, but it was no use. He had her pinned against the wall in seconds. "Why won't you tell me!"

"I can't," she said calmly.

"Tell me!"

Rhyne closed her eyes trying to swallow her growing rage. It didn't matter who stood in her way while she was in this state, they would be harmed. "Let go of me, Tris. I don't want to hurt you."

"This is what it has come too, us threatening each other! I won't have our love turn bitter, Rhyne. I won't. We have suffered enough, I won't let us suffer more," his voice turned desperate.

"Please Tris, leave me be. Don't allow me to hurt you," she pleaded.

"Tell me what happened to you. Every time I see the scars you bear it breaks my heart." His voice faltered slightly.

"We all have scars."

"Yours are not only from battle. I love you, Rhyne. I always will. Don't you know that?"

"Please Tris, leave me. I am no match for the hate that drives me."

"Have you ever thought of using that rage towards something else?" She looked him in the eyes. "Instead of letting it fuel your hate, let it fuel your passion. You have so much in you. Leave those memories behind, and no longer will you be haunted by sadness."

"I can't," she spoke plainly.

"Why?"

"Because they have not yet paid for what they did. They have not yet been judged." He was losing her again.

"Don't do this Rhyne, not again. Stay with me."

"Let me go," she snarled.

"No."

"So be it." Rhyne picked up her foot and slammed it down upon his. His arms immediately released from around her and he groaned in pain. At his vulnerable moment Rhyne threw back her fist and connected it hard on his face. Tristan dropped on his back with a split lip. Suddenly, Rhyne broke from what seemed like a spell and saw Tristan lying before her. Her eyes instantly found distress and she went to his side and began to cry. "Oh, Tris. I'm so sorry. What have I done?" She stood and poured water from the large flagon that stood next to her bed onto a clean piece of cloth. She sat at his side once more and brought the wet cloth to his lip. "I'm so sorry, my love. Never have I been able to control myself while in that state."

"Do not fret, it is only a scratch."

"No. It should never have happened, not to you. It just proves that I will never defeat it. It is my evil side. The one I wish none of you ever had to see."

"Have you never tried to stop it?" he asked while sitting up.

Rhyne bowed her head in shame. "No. It is that very rage that has saved my life many times, and I hold onto it for those who did this to me because is my only will to live."

Tristan remembered what Sparrow had told them. "No. That is not the only thing."

"What else? What other thing is there to live for?" she pleaded through tears.

Tristan wiped her tears from her face and tucked the stray strands of hair behind her ear. He lightly traced his fingers down her cheek. "This." He leaned in and engulfed her into a deep and passionate kiss. Rhyne buried her fingers into his hair and he groaned against her lips. He slinked his arms around her waist and pulled her closer so she was straddling his lap. Rhyne pulled away from him as his hands started to travel up her gown. She stood and walked to the other side of the room. "What? What's wrong?" Tristan asked getting to his feet.

Her hands went to her face. "You may be able to forgive me, but can I forgive myself?" she looked at him, on the verge of crying once more.

Tristan walked over to her and wrapped her into his arms. "That depends on you. You must find something else to live for, other than revenge," he whispered to her.

Rhyne picked up her head and looked at him. "I'll try. But it won't be easy to let it go."

"I will help you all I can."

"I don't think you will be able to help, Tris. It will be something I have to do alone."

"Then I will always be there to make you forget about those memories and think about what is ahead of you." Rhyne smiled and he leaned in once more and their lips met hungrily. They both tumbled onto the bed behind them and for those few hours that they loved each other they forgot everything but themselves.

Later, bodies sweaty and tangled, Tristan lay watching Rhyne sleep next to him. She held a little smile across her face. She shifted slightly to lie on her stomach, still facing him. She sighed and opened her eyes. Chocolate eyes stared deeply into emerald ones. "Gods," he gasped. "If there was only one thing that made me fall for you, it would have to be your eyes. They are jewels in the moonlight. I could look into them forever."

Rhyne smiled at him. "You have always been so romantic."

He pulled her close. "Only with you," he whispered. She smiled and kissed him. Tristan rolled on top of her and started kissing her jawbone and then moved down her neck. Rhyne laughed. "Again!"

Tristan looked up at her. "I will never have enough of you. I could hold you for all eternity, and it will never be enough." Rhyne looked at him with such love, his heart could burst. She pulled him back to her lips. Their passion grew brighter that night. Maybe they won't be separated again after all…

Rhyne awoke as the sun hit her face. Her legs were tangled with Tristan's who lay next to her. She lay against his chest, wrapped in his arms with her hands lying against his skin. She kissed the skin beneath her lips. She felt him begin to rub her bare arm. Rhyne looked up to see Tristan awake. "Did I wake you?" she whispered.

He shook his head. "No, I have been awake for sometime."

Rhyne smiled. "I don't think I will ever wake before you."

Tristan chuckled. "Well, my love, what kind of scout would I be if I do not wake at the slightest sound? I would wake if your breathing changed."

Rhyne snuggled closer to him. "Tris."

"Hmm."

She was silent for a moment, but he waited for her to answer. "Tris, I am sorry for-" but he silenced her.

"Shh, I require no apology."

"But-"

"No. We all have demons, even the most honorable and just of men." Rhyne did not answer, but knew deep down that he was right, no matter how much she hated herself. They lay in silence until the sun was fully shining in the window. Tristan finally moved to sit up. "Come, my love. Our celebration is awaiting us." Reluctantly Rhyne stood, not wanting to face those whom she raged her anger at the night before. They half dressed, decently enough to step outside and go to the real room they share. Surprisingly to them both, there was hot water in the steel tub waiting for them. Rhyne smiled welcomingly and began to undress again.

Rhyne began to walk into the wash room with the tub but a hand grabbed her wrist. Rhyne turned and found Tristan bare skinned as well and stepped closer until he was only inches away from her lips. "There is room for the both of us," he whispered. He cupped her cheek and kissed her soundly. Rhyne wrapped her arms around his neck and he slid his arms down to her hips. He took a firm grip and picked her up. Rhyne wrapped her legs around his waist and Tristan made his way to the tub…

After braiding each others hair and slipping on clean garments they made their way to the tavern, where breakfast was being celebrated. Rhyne was a ghost walking down the vacant ahlls of the fort. Sometimes she thought is was no more than a ghost town. They began to hear the noise as they approached. She stopped at the corner. Tristan kept walking but stopped short when she did not follow. He walked back next to her. "Are you okay?"

"Of all things to fear, this is what I fear the most." Rhyne looked at Tristan and chuckled at herself.

"All will be well," he assured her.

"And if it is not?"

"It will be." Tristan tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear. "Come, they are waiting." He took her hand and led her around the corner and into the small courtyard that served as the tavern. The knights, along with Arthur were sitting on the side that they always occupied, and that no Roman dared try to sit there, even when the knights were on a mission. The two stood there for a moment watching their friends. Everyone already had a mug of wine in their hand, and their laughter filled the courtyard. "Bors!" Vanora's angry yell came from inside the kitchen rooms.

"What wench!"

"Bors! I swear on all Gods that if you don't come in here and help me you will never be free! I will slave you for the rest of your life!" Rhyne and Tristan smiled as Bors scurried into the kitchen.

Sparrow walked out as Bors went in, and she was the first to notice the two late comers. Without a word Sparrow rushed over to them and threw her arms around Rhyne. "Are you alright mother?" she asked hastily.

Rhyne pulled away to face her. "I am now." Sparrow hugged her one more time and then faced Tristan.

"She didn't beat you too badly I hope," she asked noticing the cut and bruise on his lip.

Tristan smiled a little. "No, not too badly." Unexpectedly, Tristan found Sparrow giving him a violent hug. He was shocked at first, but he eventually put his arms around her too, and hugged her as well. Remembering the vow he made, he could easily treat Sparrow as his very own daughter.

All the knights were now looking in their direction. Lancelot stood and began to walk over. Rhyne walked towards him as well. "I'm sorry for what I did. I never meant to scream at you that way."

"There is no need. I am fine. We were just worried about you. All is well I see," he said looking back a Tristan.

Rhyne thumped him playfully. "Of all times to tease you pick the very worst." The chuckled together. Rhyne hugged him briefly before regrettably walking towards the other knights. Bors walked out of the kitchens and stopped at the sight of Rhyne. After a moment Vanora called for him again. "Bors! I'm not finished with you!"

"Bloody shut up woman!"

"Don't you dare tell me to shut up you big oaf!" Her voice became louder as she walked out of the kitchens. She was about to yell at him again when she saw Rhyne. Vanora just hit Bors in the head with the large spoon she held in her hand and walked back in, out of the courtyard.

"OWW! You bloody wench!" he yelled while rubbing the back of his head.

Rhyne sniggered a bit, but quickly went back to a passive face. She stood there for a moment, just staring at them, and they stared back. And then she finally spoke. "I never meant for anyone to see that last night. It is a part of me that I like to keep hidden, save from a few people. I am a little uncontrollable while in that state."

"So, what exactly is _that_?" Gawain asked emphasizing the word Rhyne used.

Again, she regrettably answered. "That is my anger. The anger that I hold for those that made me suffer years ago. That anger was my only will to live at one point." A few nodded, as if understanding.

There was a little silence. Dagonet spoke up. "Rhyne, we all carry hate in one way or another. Though, we all admit, we have never held anger like yours, but I am sure it is for good reason. I know, as well as everyone else in this courtyard, that you are a good person, and you would not hold anger like that without cause. I'm sure, whatever or whoever gave you the nightmares that you suffer, probably deserves the wrath that you will bestow on him one day." All in the area looked at him, surprised. Rarely Dagonet ever speaks of such things, he only speaks when need be, much like Tristan. Not even Bors, who is closest to him, has heard him speak with that many words at once in that manner.

After the initial shock, Bors stood and walked over to her. "Aye, my Little Witch. None of us hate you for what happened. You are not getting off that easy." He walked over and hugged her tight enough to make her cringe. But she hugged him as well none the matter. "We love you too much to leave you behind, Little Witch. All of us together will face those who did this to you."

Rhyne backed out of his hug. "Thank you, Bors. Thank you all for not condemning me," she spoke to all the others in the courtyard. She also realized that Vanora, Jamari and Jarrah had come out of the kitchen.

"Well," Lancelot said rather loudly. "Now that that's done…let's eat." There were cheers from everyone. He took Sparrow's hand and kissed it. "Will you join me my Lady?"

Sparrow shook her head with a smile. "You are such a charmer. I might as well be under a spell."

Lancelot stepped closer. So close that only Sparrow could hear what he says. "No, my sweet fire." He put a finger under her chin, and his other hand inched through her hair. "You are the one that has me under the spell."

"See," she smiled. "Charmer." Sparrow grabbed a handful of his tunic and pulled him to her lips. Lancelot puller her closer with his arms around her waist and she wrapped hers around his neck. He twirled her around a few times and they began to hear more cheers and whistles behind them.

"Hey, Hey! Come love birds. You are almost worse than our scout and witch over here," Bors yelled across the courtyard.

"Bors!" Rhyne screeched from Tristan's lap. "It can't be far as bad as the show you and Vanora put on when we came back from the mission!" There was an eruption of laughter. It even caught the attention of Sparrow and Lancelot.

Bors got a defensive look on his face. "Well," he yelled over the noise. "What of a wager?"

"A wager? What are you saying, Bors?" Sparrow asked as her and Lancelot finally sat down at the table.

"I'm saying a contest. Me and Vanora, you and Lancelot, and Rhyne and Tristan. The others shall be the judges."

Rhyne snorted. "Bors, are you crazy? What sort of wager is that?"

"No, I think it's a great idea." Lancelot said speaking up.

"What? Lance…"

"No, no, no. I think it's perfect. Judge from romantic to passionate to disgusting, or what ever else you could think of."

"Lancelot, this is ridiculous." Rhyne said. "Tris, we are not agreeing to this, right?" When she didn't hear him answer she looked at him. "Tris?...Tris?" She looked nervous.

"No," she looked relieved for a moment. "I think it would be fun," then panicked.

"What! You can't be serious!"

"Oh come on, Rhyne!" Lancelot called out. "Be crazy for once. You are game right, fire?"

Sparrow shrugged. "Sure, I'm game."

All knew Bors and Vanora were in, so all looked to Rhyne for her answer. She almost looked insulted, and looked at Tristan. "It will be fun," he said trying to assure that fact.

"Hey, I am all for crazy, but this is ludicrous."

"Rhyne," and she looked over to Lancelot. "If you don't humor us, for this one time, I will from this moment one call you Mother," he threatened with a knowing smile.

Rhyne tried to protest, but didn't. She knew she was cornered. And what was worse, she knew that they knew she was cornered. She gave a frustrated and defeated sigh. "Fine." And there was a big cheer.

"Watch out, Tris. She may be hard to handle," Gawain said above the laughter.

"Nah," Tristan pulled Rhyne closer to him on his lap. "That makes it all the better." There was more laughter as she slapped him lightly on his face. He hissed slightly because she hit is bruise on his lip.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I just keep hurting you don't I?" she asked teasingly.

"Yeah, well, I think I just might have to punish you."

"Oh really, and what is my punishment going to be?"

"You'll have to get back to me on that one." She was about to reply but he covered her lips was a sweet kiss.

Before they knew it breakfast was over and the contest was beginning. Lancelot and Sparrow were elected to go first, because they were the youngest. Then it would be Tristan and Rhyne, then Bors and Vanora.

When it came to a certain point Rhyne could watch no longer. There is only so much she would allow herself to see her daughter do, and this was one of the limits. According to Bors they were rookies. "Do you young ones know why the Gods blessed us with tongues and hands?" he asked as they sat down. "That bit Sparrow was doing in Lancelot's neck and hair was good, but the rest was rubbish. Next!"

Tristan and Rhyne stood in front of the group. This was harder for Rhyne to do then she thought. As if Tristan was reading her mind her whispered in her ear. "Remember the night is rained." He was referring to the first night they made love.

"How could I forget?"

"Well, just relive it." She nodded wickedly at him. Tristan was ready to carry her off to bed when they were done. He had her legs wrapped around his waist and her back pinned against the wall. Her fingers were deep in his hair and his hands were up her gown holding her hips. Sparrow had her face buried in Lancelot's chest, not wanting to look as her mother had done with her and Lance. There were claps when they were finished. They were ranked at passionate. "That was good, better than the rookies. Your hands know exactly where to go. But what about the tongues?" Rhyne rolled her eyes at Bors.

"Bors, since when were you the expert?" Rhyne asked irritated.

"Since I made 11 bastards, that's when!" Bors was waiting for a comment for Lancelot, but is never came. His eyes were fixed on Sparrow. That girl had definitely changed him, and for the better. "Van, let's show them how it's done." He pulled Van to him and began.

Before they were even done many were getting away from the tavern, unable to handle the scene unfolding before them. Tristan and Rhyne were running back to their room. Rhyne turned one of the corners ahead of Tristan when she suddenly found him pinning her against the wall. "I could just barely control myself in there," he in a very husky voice.

Rhyne smirked. "Oh really." She led one hand through his hair as she brought her lips to the skin of his neck. She felt him go a little limp against her as she began to nibble on his ear. Then the next second, she was no longer in front of him. Tristan turned and saw her off to the right walking towards the inn.

"Hey!" he yelled and she turned. "Where do you think you're going?" Tristan began to walk towards her.

Rhyne smiled wickedly. "You are just gonna have to control yourself for a little bit longer." She began to move her feet a little faster, as did Tristan. Soon enough he started to run towards her. She screamed and ran full sprint to the inn. They both jumped up the stairs to the second floor, skipping steps as they went. Tristan saw her disappear into their room. He dove into the room as well and closed the door behind him. He felt a warm body jump on his back. He twisted Rhyne in front of him and pushed her down on the bed. Tristan trapped her wrists in his hands above her head.

"So, is this my punishment?" Rhyne asked arching her body against his.

Tristan shook his head. "Oh no. I've got a whole torture session lined up for you." He claimed her lips and then trailed them down her jaw. She gasped as he kissed the valley between her breasts, though their clothes were still on. Then he began to inch his lips down her body as his hands followed. She arched herself against him again, but no longer felt his presence. She saw him kneeling making a fire in the fireplace.

"What are you doing?" she asked annoyed.

"Making a fire. What does it look like?" he was calm and serious.

Rhyne nodded irritatingly. "This is your torture ain't it? Making me wait?"

He looked back at her again. "Babe, I have no idea what you're talking about."

"Uh ah, right." She lay back down, her back facing him. A few minutes later she felt him crawl in the bed next to her and put her arms around her once more, but she pulled away from him. "Oh no. Not after what you pulled," she pointed at him accusingly. And she turned her back on him again. Rhyne felt a finger trace down her spine, and she fell into a chest behind her. Tristan pulled down the strap on her shoulder and kissed the skin underneath it. Rhyne groaned. "How can I resist you?"

For the next half hour he stalled their lovemaking. Rhyne groaned loud in frustration. "Just kill me now!" The only clothing they shed since they got in the room was Tristan's tunic.

"Have you had enough?" he asked standing from adding more wood to the fire.

"No! That's the whole point! I haven't had anything!"

"So, I do torture pretty well then?"

"More than pretty well, this is Hell!" he sat on the bed next to her. She took his hand. "Please, Tristan. Just take me."

He looked at her with a raised brow. "Are you begging me?"

"Yes. Yes, I'm begging you." Before she could say anything else he claimed her lips once more, but impatiently.

"Thank the Goddess, I was going crazy. It was torturing me too." They fell back into the pillows…

Two weeks later Arthur got the message from the Bishop. The next day the knights would ride out and escort the Bishop into the wall. They all decided to celebrate one last time in the tavern that night. Not only were the knights happy, but the Romans were abnormally happy as well. But of course they would have a good reason; the fort would no longer belong to the famous Sarmatians Knights, but to the Roman soldiers stationed there, and the women would flock back to them as well. Rhyne went to work with Vanora that night, to help her deal with the crowd. She had bought a new gown at the market when Tristan was out on sentry duty the day befpre, and she wore it for him tonight. It was a deep red silk with gold pieces sown into it at the collar. It has a low swooping neck with sleeves that begin at the tip of her shoulders to her elbows, and then it splits and dangles close to the ground. She also had her father's talisman polished and it glimmered from her neck. Jamari let her borrow a gold hair pin, so she plaited some hair and pinned it all up, except for leaving a few dangling strands.

So far only Romans filled the tavern and Rhyne was busy refilling mugs at each table. One table filled with drunk, dice-playing Romans kept calling her back every few moments. Rhyne allowed them to kiss her hand and she would blow on the dice when they asked, desiring luck in their game. It wasn't until one Roman in particular pulled her onto his lap and tried to kiss her neck. Rhyne stood quickly. "I am not a barmaid who will grace your lap, Roman." She heard sounds of the knights walking in the tavern and walked away from the table. She set the flagon of ale she was holding on the bar and went to greet the knights.

To her surprise, Arthur came to join the celebration as well. He usually only came to the tavern with his men on few occasions. She greeted him first with a kiss on the cheek. "Well, dear sister, you do look stunning," he said with wide eyes and a huge smile.

She bowed her head in thanks. "I am going with you tomorrow morning, you know."

"You are welcome to, but I'm sure you would be coming even if I said no."

"Damn right. And Sparrow has also requested that she join us. I told her it was up to you."

Arthur thought for a moment. "I give her permission." They saw Tristan walk in and sit at the knight's usual table. Arthur kissed Rhyne on the cheek. "Go get him," and he went to join the knights.

Rhyne walked over the table the knights filled and stood behind Tristan. The rest of the knights saw her and she put her finger to her lips. "What can I get you Sir Knights and Ladies?"

"Ten ales please," Bors called to her. Rhyne nodded and started to walk back to the bar. She tapped on Sparrow's shoulder to come help her and she got up from Lancelot's lap. They walked over behind the bar and started to fill ten mugs. "You look beautiful, Mother. He didn't even realize it was you."

Rhyne smiled over to her. "That's the point." They carried the mugs over to the table on two separate trays and began to set them in front of everyone. Rhyne gave Tristan the last one and leaned over his shoulder to set it in front of him. She put an arm around his neck and began to nibble on his ear. Tristan pulled her onto his lap and sucked her right into a kiss. When they pulled away she saw his eyes widen. He looked her up and down. He opened his mouth to speak, and closed it again. A few moments later he opened his mouth once more, this time he spoke. "You…you are…you are absolutely beautiful. A Goddess even." She blushed slightly. "Oh, I'm sorry. I found a soft spot didn't I," he teased. "Okay, how about this one. You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen, and I love that color on you."

Rhyne blushed more and thumped his chest. "Tris, stop it. Or I will tell them that you cried." Tristan shrugged and pulled her into another kiss.

"Now when did you get all this?" he asked motioning to the new dress.

"I bought it yesterday when you were on duty."

"And I didn't notice in our room," he said a little surprised.

"Well, you may be a scout, Sir Knight, but I am a woman."

"What has that got to do with anything?"

"Everything. Women can hide things from men like no other, even if you are a scout for the infamous Arthur Castus."

"So what does that mean?"

"It means that a woman's heart is a deep ocean of secrets. And most that we keep, no matter who you are, will never hear them. Am I right ladies?" She looked to Sparrow, Jarrah and Jamari who were around the table. They all nodded.

"I don't know about that," Lancelot said. "I bet I could get you to tell me your deepest secrets," he looked at his lover.

"Oh no," Sparrow protested. "I agree with Mother. There are things that a woman will never tell anyone, even if it is the one she loves the most."

Rhyme nodded at her daughter and then looked around the tavern. "Okay, I have to go back to work." She kissed Tristan again and stood.

Rhyne filled empty glasses and switched with Vanora to work behind the bar so she could go see Bors for a while. She washed mugs, and filled mugs. The Roman that pulled her onto his lap walked up and wanted a refill. "Hello, angel. Refill please." Rhyne refilled it and gave him a sweet smile.

Tristan and Lancelot came up a few people away to get some refills. "Hey guys, what can I get ya?"

Lancelot looked insulted. "What, we get no special treatment?"

"Not in your life," she laughed.

Meanwhile, the Roman started to talk, and rather loudly, since he was drunk. "That man sure is lucky, to catch a beauty like that. I mean really, it's like she came out of nowhere. And that daughter of hers, looks just like her. I wouldn't mind to have a go at either of them." The man next to him said something. "It's a same really. I doubt he really knows how to treat her right. I bet she is an absolute wildcat in bed. Maybe when the scout and the other are gone I will try." The other man said something else. "Oh, they could try. They won't do anything though, not to a Roman. They are smart enough to keep their heads."

Meanwhile Rhyne gave Lancelot and Tristan back their drinks and saw the looks on their faces. They were ready to silt the man's throat. Well, Lancelot was. Tristan held a frightening calmness, but Rhyne saw the rage in his eyes and his clenched fists. Rhyne reached out to touch their hands. Startled, they faced at her. "Don't worry boys; I'll take care of it. Go on now, go sit back down." They just stared back at her. "Go." They still didn't move. "I said go. I will come by in a little while." She kissed Tristan's cheek and shooed them back to their table. A few minutes later the Roman began to walk back to his table. Rhyne grabbed a flagon of ale and hurried to the table before him, refilling their drinks. She felt an arm around her waist. "More ale please, angel." She could smell the ale on his breath.

"Certainly," she said with a sweet smile. She turned towards him. She went to pour more in his mug, but it ended up on him instead. He looked at her with shock and anger. She mockingly covered her mouth with her hand. "Oh, I am so sorry, my dear." There were laughs from the knights. "Let me go get you something to clean that up. She began to walk back to the bar, a smirk on her face.

"You wench! How dare you humiliate me!" he walked after her and raised a hand to knock her down but she pulled a knife from her boot and stuck it hard in his open palm. Her yelp in pain. Then she leaned in and elbowed him hard in the ribs and kicked him in the chest and he fell to the ground. Rhyne stood over him and push the knife in further with her boot.

"Nobody insults me, my daughter or our lovers," she said dangerously. "That goes for everyone in this courtyard!" she yelled in the now perfectly silent tavern. Rhyne kneeled down and twisted the knife still imbedded in his flesh. "I am no angel, as you now well know." She pulled the knife from his hand and he yelped again in agony. Rhyne wiped the blood from it on his own tunic and then she put it back in its place in her boot.

She walked back over to the table the knights occupied. "You see, I told you I would take care of it." The knights laughed and cheered.

Before Rhyne could sit down Bors stood. "Little Witch, you must sing. Help us celebrate this special event."

"No. I will not be one of your entertainment whips."

Arthur stood next to him. "Yes, you have not yet graced us with your voice."

"My voice is not worthy of this tavern."

"That's not true." Tristan said sitting below her. "Your voice is very worthy. I agree with Bors and Arthur. You should sing."

"I said no."

"If you won't sing alone then Sparrow shall join you," Lancelot said ushering Sparrow to join her.

"Yes mother," she encouraged. "It will be fun."

"Well," Lancelot said leaning his elbows on the table. "I guess I could always threaten you again."

Once again she was defeated. "Oh, very well. Come Sparrow," she waved her daughter over.

Bors pushed them out into the middle of the courtyard. "Shut up!" All attention was placed on them as Rhyne whispered in Sparrow's ear what song they shall sing. Sparrow nodded and in unison, they began. Sparrow's voice not much different from her mother's:

_May it be an evening star_

_Shines down upon you_

_May it be when darkness falls_

_Your heart will be true_

_You walk a lonely road_

_Oh, how far you are from home_

_Morniё utúliё_

_Believe and you will find your way_

_Morniё alantiё_

_A promise lives within you now_

_May it be the shadows call_

_Will fly away_

_May it be you journey on_

_To light the day_

_When the night is overcome_

_You may rise to find the sun_

_Morniё utúliё_

_Believe and you will find your way_

_Morniё alantiё_

_A promise lives within you now_

_A promise lives within you…now_

The duo finished and the knights either had tears in their eyes or were quite somber looking. The song not only fit what their last fifteen years of service was, but Rhyne knew it also fit what fate held in store for them in the coming storm, andfor many years to come. Men like Arthur's Knights of the Round Table will always have a purpose, especially when the days are dark and chaos is the way of things. They were born with a promise to hold and keep. Fate blessed them with the life of a warrior; and with that blessing comes a curse, a responsibility: to hold and protect the innocent and the weak.

Forget about their ancestors promise to Rome, this is a promise to humanity.

Rhyne remembered something Pelagius once told her about being a warrior and a leader._ "With this title comes great responsibility. To protect, to defend, to value other's lives above your own. And should they perish, to live your life gloriously in honor of their memory. The world isn't a perfect place, Rhyne. But perhaps people like you, like me, your mother and father, can one day make it so." _

She missed Pelagius dearly. She had heard of his death while in the Northern Forests. She had a dream, and Merlin confirmed it to be true a few weeks later. If only she had the courage to tell Arthur. It would help to make him see the real Rome, but it would also break his heart, she did not want to be responsible for that.

"Could you pick a more depressing song?" Lancelot complained.

"It's not depressing! It should be inspiring. When you feel lost, say these words to yourself. It will help you get on the right path, believe me. It has helped me many times," Rhyne stated in protest.

"Where did you learn it?" Arthur asked. "It sounds familiar."

"It should. Mother always sang it." Arthur nodded his head in remembrance.

Bors wiped a few tears away. "Alright, alright. Enough sad rubbish. A real song," he commanded.

"Bors, that is a real song," Sparrow said sarcastically.

"I said a real song wench!" he yelled in mock contempt.

"Alright, Bors, alright. Keep your pants on." Sparrow called in an annoyed tone. "Mother!"

"Don't worry, Sparrow. I got it." She ran to the bar quickly and filled herself a mug of ale and hurried back to the table. "Sparrow." Rhyne started to tap a beat on the table. Her daughter nodded knowingly. Sparrow started with the beat as well. After repeating it a few times Sparrow began to sing:

_Well a man came up from the South with news_

_Somebody's been taken, somebody's been abused_

_Somebody cu up a soldier_

_Somebody stole a horse_

_Somebody got away_

_Somebody didn't get too far, yeah_

_They didn't get too far._

Rhyne:

_Grandpappy told my pappy, back in my day, son_

_I man gotta answer for the wicked things he done_

_Take all the rope in Britain_

_Find a tall oak tree, round up all them bad boys_

_Hang them high in the streets, for all the people to see_

Gawain and Galahad:

_Well, Justice is the one thing you should always find_

_You gotta saddle up your boys_

_You gotta draw a hard line_

Lancelot and Sparrow:

_When our swords are sheathed and there's no more concern_

_We'll all meet back at the local tavern_

(others in the tavern began to join in and clap or pound with the beat)

Everyone:

_We'll raise up our flagons against evil forces singing _(all raise their mugs)

_Whiskey for my men, beer for my horses_ (all drink from their mugs)

Bors and Dagonet:

_We got too many sinners doin' dirty deeds_

_Too much corruption, too much crime in the streets_

Lancelot and Arthur:

_It's time the long arm of the law put a few more in the ground_

_Send 'em all to their maker and he'll settle 'em down_

Rhyne and Sparrow:

_You can bet he'll set 'em down, 'cause_

Gawain and Jamari:

_Justice in the one thing you should always find_

_You gotta saddle up your boys _

_You gotta draw a hard line_

Galahad and Jarrah:

_When our swords are sheathed and there's no more concern_

_We'll all meet back at the local tavern_

Everyone:

_We'll raise up our flagons against evil forces singing_ (all raise their mugs)

_Whiskey for my men, beer for my horses _

_Whiskey for my men, beer for my_ _horses_ (all drink)

Lancelot and Bors:

_Ya know---Justice is the one thing you should always_

_You gotta saddle up your boys_

_You gotta draw a hard line_

Dagonet and Tristan:

_When our swords are sheathed and there's no more concern_

_We'll all meet back at the local tavern_

Everyone:

_We'll raise up our flagons against evil forces singing _(all raise their mugs)

_Whiskey for my men, beer for my horses_

_Singing whiskey for my men_

Rhyne and Tristan:

_Beer for my horses_ (all drink)

When the last beat sound everyone slammed their mugs onto the table, sending what was left of the ale up in the air then splashing on the people, the tables and floor. There was laughter and clapping for a while afterwards. Rhyne and Sparrow took their bows.

"Now that's a song!" Bors yelled above the noise.

"Now my lady," Tristan said. "I didn't know you were that unruly. You have a sharp tongue, but that song was surprising."

Rhyne raised a brow. "Really." Tristan nodded. "Alright." She took her mug to the bar and refilled it herself. Then came back. "Knights!" She got their attention. "Tris thinks that song was rather unruly of me! Do you think so!" They all agreed. "Well, I am insulted. I'll have you know I am just as rowdy and immature as you!" she said with a wicked smile.

"Prove it!" Lancelot yelled. The other followed suit and were all gabbing her to do so.

"I intend to!" Rhyne lifted her mug and then started to chug the entire thing down. They were cheering her on as the mug got lifted more and more above her head. A little dribbled from the side of her mouth as she took the last gulp. They clapped. Then she slammed down the mug and got onto the table top. She began to move her feet to a silent beat. The knights started to clap, following Sparrow. Rhyne danced until her feet faltered, and she fell off the table. Tristan caught her in his lap. "Okay, now you're just immature," he said before claiming her lips.

There were whistles in the background. "Now, now children!" A drunken Lancelot slurred. "Don't stay up too late." And Tristan walked out of the tavern taking Rhyne with him.

**_So what did you think…did you like it enough…did I make it up to you?_**


	20. Grudges

**_Disclaimer: same as before..._**

**_Camreyn: The 2nd song is by Toby Keith and Willie Nelson, country singers if you didn't know. There is a fight scene in this chapter. We all know what happens at the beginning of the movie…and I hope you like what happens in the middle of it. I'm glad you thought the chapter was steamy…no one has ever described my writing like that…good compliment considering what happened in that chapter..hehehe…thanks. Oh…and the Romans will have revenge soon…I just thought of a wicked plan that circles in Rhyne's final step of atonement…expect to see it unravel in the next few chapters._**

**_Priestess of the Myrmidon: Hey, as long as people like the story, that is all that really matters, especially since these are not really our stories, in a certain sense anyway…I'm glad you liked that side of Rhyne. I was worried I wrote it a little over the top…well, it probably is a little over the top, but for a story like this (that involves magic and such) I hope it is not too much. _**

_**Tracy 137: I think that was one of my best few lines in the story yet. I love how they just come out of nowhere when you are typing. It is such a good feeling. I'm glad you laughed like that. Feels good when you do that to people as well. **_

_**Loved the new chapter for 'Heart'…intense and romantic. I love Caillain and Tris…they are so cute and adorable. They are perfect for each other. Most of these stories…including mine and a few of ours have Tris paired with a warrior woman…not that it's bad...but I love it when he gets paired with a normal woman…it is harder to write because of who Tris is…you can't just have them look at each other once and they are instantly in love…it would have to be like yours…lots of watching, talking…I love it.**_

_**I think the world would be boring with no dreams or imagination…that is why we are who we are and where we are. And I hate it when people criticize those who have great dreams and a huge imagination…it makes me sick…Emerson was right… "To be great is to be misunderstood."**_

_**Anyway, glad you liked the chapter.**_

**_Lucillaq: I'm glad you liked it…and the songs as well. I had lots of fun writing the part with the 2nd song. I love what is happening in Black Rose…keep it coming._**

Justice Will Rhyne

Chapter Twenty-Grudges

The knights, accompanied by Rhyne and Sparrow, road to the peak of the hill and saw the incoming caravan that held their discharge papers. Rhyne, once again, held a masked smile for her knights. Inwardly, she knew this was the start of it all. Tomorrow morning it would begin. The three marked graves flashed before her again and she closed her eyes to hide her emotion, but it didn't help.

"As promised, the Bishop's carriage," Gawain stated.

"Our freedom Bors," Galahad grinned.

"Hmm, I can almost taste it."

"And your passage to Rome, Arthur," Gawain happily looked to his commander and noticed his dreamily look upon the caravan before them.

Rhyne and Sparrow held a normal gaze, but would not look at the knights in fear that they would ask what was wrong, and it was so hard to lie to them. But Rhyne was doing this for the good of everyone. She had to make them see, but that would come later.

Her thoughts were broke by the sound of screams coming from the trees. "Woads!" Tristan said hurriedly. He would probably like no more than to let the Woads destroy all the Romans down in the valley before them, but they guarded the most precious thing the knights will ever receive. _Only if they would see the truth_, Rhyne thought.

They raced down the hill and formed the dragon. The lines of Woad and Sarmatian clashed with each other as blood became seed of the land. Rhyne and Sparrow rode side by side through the blue warriors. They killed no one, only if it was necessary. The Woads were their allies after all. They could both feel Merlin's presence in the trees. Rhyne wished Merlin would not have ordered this interception, she knows that he knows they would be here and that the Bishop carried the knights discharge papers. But like he always said: everything happens for a reason. It is all part of Fate's plan.

Though Rhyne and Sparrow hated fighting who they call friends, it had to be done for the greater cause. Rhyne stayed atop of Zyfer battling those she could with the arrows in her supply, and Hawk took out a few that tried to get Rhyne unsaddled. She saw Tristan fire an arrow into the trees and hit one of their archers in the eye. "Show off!" she yelled over to him. He glanced her way and winked. Rhyne suddenly felt a deep rush of pain in her belly, and it spread throughout her body and ran in her veins. She hunched over and dropped her bow. Rhyne clung onto her saddle, but she had no strength left, and she tumbled to the ground. The pain ran deeper than any wound, it was a magical wound. "Guinevere," she whimpered.

She looked up and saw Sparrow and Hawk fighting above her. The pain was slowly disappearing, but would always reside, deep down. Then she felt a hand on her face, and found Tristan staring at her. "Are you okay?" He voice was full of concern.

Rhyne nodded and he helped her stand. "Yes. There is no wound, I will explain later." She took Titan from her back and stepped into the skirmish. She found herself next to Lancelot as he decapitated a man in a scissor motion with his twin blades. Rhyne saw Sparrow off to the right of him. She just laughed and whistled at him as he did so. Rhyne and Lancelot were fighting back to back. "Don't you think that was a little unnecessary?"

"No, not really?"

"It was gross!"

"Hey! You didn't seem to have a problem with it when we were against the Saxons!"

"That's different!"

"How!"

"It's the Saxons! These are Woads!"

"It's doesn't matter!"

"It does!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

"YES!"

"NO!" Rhyne heard Hawk growl from beside her and then felt a pain in her arm. "OWWW!" Rhyne found a dagger cut on her right shoulder, across her dragon. "Shit! I can't fix that! Lancelot! It's your fault! You ruined my dragon!"

"My fault!" He yelled as he cut the Woad down who cut her. "How is it my fault?"

"Because it is!"

"That's not a reason!"

"Damn straight it is! You were not allowing me to pay attention!"

"Children!" Bors came over. "We are in the middle of a bloody fight! In the name of the Gods what are you bloody arguing about?"

"He started it!" Rhyne pointed over to Lancelot accusingly.

"You were the one that came over to me!"

Rhyne was about to argue back but Bors stopped her. "Alright, alright! I don't want to know! Bloody save it for later!" Rhyne and Lancelot shared nasty glares as Bors went a different direction into the fight. Hawk was giving Rhyne an annoyed look with a shake of his head. She rolled her eyes at him.

It was over just as soon as it had begun. Rhyne took a strip of cloth from her saddlebag and tied it around the cut on her shoulder. She rode over to the carriage, where the knights were gathering. Hawk trotted up beside Arthur who was facing half a dozen Romans on horseback. One near the front saw the wolf and was loading his bow. Instead an arrow landed between his horses' two front legs and it spooked. The Roman found Rhyne with an arrow aimed towards him as he began to calm his steed. "I don't think so. The wolf is a friend." The alarmed Roman nodded his head and slowly put away his bow.

"Stand down," a heavily accented voice came from the back of the mounted Romans. They parted like what Rhyne remembered as the Red Sea in the Christians Bible to an older, shorter Roman in Legion armor. To Rhyne, he didn't look like a soldier at all, but he did seem familiar to her somehow. She could not recall why.

"Arthur. Arthur Castus," he said merrily as Arthur approached him. "Your father's image. I have not seen you since childhood."

"Bishop Germanus. Welcome to Britain." Rhyne laughed at Arthur's sarcastic remark. "I see your military skills still have use of you. Your device worked." The soldiers were carrying the dead decoy from the carriage as the Bishop dismounted.

"Ancient tricks for ancient dog."

Rhyne snorted. "Something worse than a dog if you ask me." She said it rather loudly and the knights sniggered. Arthur gave her a glare as she just shrugged to him. The Bishop looked at her and she gave him a mocking nod of the head with a wicked smirk on her face.

"And these are the great Sarmatian Knights we have heard so much of in Rome." His gaze fell on Rhyne. _What business does a woman have on horse? They're not good for anything, except making children. She has a mouth. I might have to get rid of this one._ "I thought the Woads controlled the North of Hadrian's Wall."

"They do. But they occasionally venture south. Rome's anticipated withdrawal has only increased their daring," Arthur stated.

"Woads?" a scrawny roman asked.

"British Rebels who hate Rome," Gawain said with daunting air around him.

"Men who want their country back," Galahad snapped at the man who cowardly snaked backwards. Rhyne laughed at her fellow knights.

"Who leads them?" the Bishop asked disgusted.

"He's called Merlin. A dark magician, some say," Lancelot said, as if trying to scare the Bishop.

"No more dark than I," Rhyne called from the end of the line of knights, next to Tristan. Rhyne looked at the Bishop with the demeanor of a partly trained Priestess. Blood streaked her face and armor, but her eyes sparkled like gems. She was a demon to him, but there was something about her eyes that was familiar. He cautiously looked over her body and a glimmer at her neck caught his eye. His eyes glazed with fear as he knew the necklace she wore. He then began to pray that she would not recognize him. She would have to be disposed of.

"Tristan, ride ahead and make sure the path is clear. Rhyne, you go with him," the two nodded at their commander and rode off side by side over the hill.

"So you said you would explain," Tristan asked of her.

"Yes, sometimes I get pains beneath my stomach, instead of a vision."

"And what do they mean?"

"That something bad is coming."

They stopped after a short ride ahead on the trail and dismounted their horses, knowing the danger was behind them. Both let their horses graze while they were waiting for the caravan to catch up. Rhyne lay flat on her back in the grass, while Tristan climbed a tree next to her. Rhyne breathed in deeply, taking in the fresh air of the trees, compared to the dust and horse smell of the Fort. Hawk came through the thickness of the trees with a rabbit in his mouth and lay beside Rhyne, and began to pull its skin apart. Meanwhile, they heard a screech from above, and Tristan's hawk, came soaring from the gray skies. She landed next to Hawk. The two animals regarded each other. The two humans watched them closely as they bowed their heads to each other and Hawk allowed her to take a piece of the dead rabbit, devouring it on the spot.

"Did you see that?" Rhyne asked wildly up into the tree Tristan sat in.

Tristan nodded, amazed as well from what he just witnessed. "They must have made friends before?" Rhyne nodded with him. The wolf and hawk ate the rabbit together and then went off into the forest again. Rhyne stared into the sky, watching the clouds move east. Tristan watched as her spirit soar with the wind. "You are more at peace here than I have ever seen you," he stated almost sadly.

"Tris, nature is part of me. I gave myself to it, and so it granted me a gift."

"Gift?"

Rhyne nodded and moved her arms across her chest, as he sees her do when performing magic. She closed her eyes. Snow started to fall. It stopped after a moment. The clouds moved away and showed the sun. The snow melted away. The clouds returned and rain began to pour. Rhyne opened her eyes and stood in the rain. "The rain has always been my favorite, so it tends to fall when I am happy."

"Is that why it has rained so much since you returned?"

"I would imagine," she smiled. They heard slight pound of hoof beats in the distance behind them. Rhyne crossed her arms and the weather, as it was before, returned. Tristan jumped from the low branch and walked over to her. Rainwater still dripped from their hair, down their faces.

"I love you," he whispered. Tristan brought his lips over Rhyne's and kissed her soundly. There lips did not part until the caravan came into sight. They whistled for their mounts and fell in line with the rest of the knights.

"Hey, did you two see that weather?" Gawain asked them from behind.

"This place can never make up its mind on what it wants to do," Lancelot called annoyed.

"Yes," Tristan replied simply, exchanging as small glance with Rhyne, and they both smirked. Rhyne raised her brow. Tristan read her mind and gave a slight nod. Rhyne crossed her arms about her chest and rain began to fall once more.

"Bloody Hell!" they heard Bors yell from behind them, followed by curses from each knight.

Tristan and Rhyne were trying their hardest not to laugh as Sparrow came riding along side her mother, giving her a questionable look. Rhyne simply nodded and could not longer contain her laughter.

"What are you so happy about, you harpy!" Bors yelled from behind her.

"Dear Bors, you know I love the rain."

The knights stopped in a line on a hill that looked over the Fort and all breathed deeply. "Tonight, I'm gonna drink till I can't piss straight," Bors claimed.

"Don't you do that every night?" Gawain asked with a chuckle.

"Well," Bors said thinking. "I have always had trouble pissing. There is too much of myself to handle down there." The knights rolled their eyes. "Really. It's a real problem. It's like-"

The other knights finished for him. "Like a babies arm holding an apple." They all sighed as Bors nodded proudly.

Rhyne shook her head. "I have been gone for far too long." She sighed. "I think I liked Bors better before I left."

"And why is that?" Bors asked.

"Because. Once your balls dropped all you do is compare your dick to other men's and whenever you see a woman, all you can imagine is how she looks naked while fucking you." The knights roared with laughter, for many had not heard her talk so vulgarly before, that was for Bors or Lancelot to do. Bors just sat there, with his insulted sulk on his face. Rhyne yelled over the laughter. "In fact," and they quieted. "I think that pertains to all of you." There was a little laughter before they actually caught on to what she said. The two women looked at their faces and began to laugh themselves, leaving insulted sulks on all their faces. "You guys take everything far too personally," Sparrow said between breaths as she followed her mother forward.

They were riding along the wall, ready to be let in the gates. Arthur rode ahead of his knights, amusingly listening to their conversations of home.

"I don't like him, the Roman. If his here to discharge us why doesn't he just give us our papers?" Galahad asked annoyingly.

"Is this your happy face?" Gawain asked leaning towards him. Galahad finally chuckled. "Galahad, do you still not know the Romans? They won't scratch their asses without holding a ceremony," Gawain insulted.

"Why don't you just kill him, and discharge yourself after?" Bors asked chuckling from Gawain's statement.

"I don't kill for pleasure," Galahad answered in disgust, "unlike some," he said looking at Rhyne and Tristan riding on the other side of Bors.

"You should try it some day, you might get a taste for it," Tristan stated simply.

"It is part of the life we all chose, Galahad. It has become us," Rhyne added.

"No, no, no. We never chose it. It was forced on us, unwillingly," he said to her harshly.

"Sarmatians are born for war. Because we have that power it is our duty, our responsibility to humanity, to protect the weak. It falls on no other but those who live by the sword." She silenced all around her. She never held so much wisdom before she was taken from them, and she returned wiser then them all. A few of them nodded in agreement, as Galahad defeated, trotted forward.

"I often thought of what I would do," Gawain said trying to ease the tension. "What will home mean after this? I have been in this life longer than the other. So much for home, it's not so clear in my memory."

"Speak for yourself!" Bors said with a shudder. "It's bloody cold back there, and everybody I know is dead and buried. Besides I think I have…a dozen children," Bors guessed.

"Eleven." The three knights around corrected him blindly.

"You listen," he gathered their attention. "When Rome leaves here, we'll have the run of all this place. I'll be governor and Dag will be my personal guard and royal ass kisser, won't you Dag!" he yelled back to Dagonet who looked unfazed.

Rhyne began to laugh. "Bors, remind me to leave when that happens. It's scary seeing you as governor!" Some of the other knights chuckled. "Besides," she continued. "I think you are already qualified as governor. Your lot can fill a whole village, and I fear one day it could fill this whole fort!"

The knights erupted in laughter, even Arthur, who was listening from ahead the group. The screech of Tristan's hawk quieted the group and her knight whistled with his arm outstretched. The hawk landed gratefully. Rhyne called over to Gawain. "And what of you Gawain?"

He thought for a moment. "When I get home I will find a beautiful Sarmatian woman to wed," he answered proudly.

"Beautiful Sarmatian woman?" Bors questioned. "Why do you think we left in the first place?" as he made a mocking mooing sound. It received a hard kick from Rhyne and a small thrown rock from Sparrow. "Oww! Vixens!" The women just laughed as Tristan and Rhyne fell to the end of the group. Lancelot came trotting next to Sparrow. "And what of you, Lancelot? What are your plans for home?" Bors asked, still rubbing the spot where the women kicked him. Sparrow listened intently for his answer, as did Rhyne from behind.

"Well, if this woman of Gawain's is as beautiful as he claims, I think I shall be spending a lot of time at Gawain's house. His wife will welcome the company," he said was a thoughtful tone, trying to be serious.

"Yes, and what will I be doing?" Gawain asked a mock anger.

"Wondering at your good fortune that all your children look like me," Lancelot jested with a grin. He let the joke have a laugh for a moment and then looked at Sparrow who was looking at him attentively. He pulled her in front of him on his saddle. "I don't know, boys," he said loud enough for the laughter to quiet down, never taking his eyes of a curious Sparrow. "I just might already have a wife. And I will go wherever she goes," he said in a quite serious tone, one the knights had only heard when talking of battle, and life and death. Never when it came to a woman. The knights shared a few looks, and even got the attention of Arthur, who looked back to his best friend with surprising shock. Marriage and love has always been a forbidden word for Lancelot, even he would admit that. But this woman he held in his arms did something to him, every time she looked at him, every time they touched, or kissed, or when she spoke, or sang. He would swear there was a spell on him, but he knew better. He knew he was falling in love. The notorious Lancelot, known as the man who could catch any woman under his grasp, was falling in love. Go figure.

Sparrow looked a little shocked to hear him say that, and was speechless for a moment, but did not want to be caught that way. "So," she grinned. "I've hooked the unhookable knight, captivate the uncaptivateable, and made the arrogant, humble. Does this mean that I made the one man who says he will never bow to another, bow before me? Does this mean-" but she was cut off by his defeated voice.

"Okay, okay. Stop rubbing it in," he sighed. But he knew she wouldn't.

She leaned closer to him, putting her arms around his neck, and spoke in a whisper only they could hear. "Does this mean I have stolen the heart of the man who always said that it would never happen?"

Lancelot smiled at her, and gave a slight nod. "I love you," he whispered, and their lips connected with a feeling they had not yet sensed.

They road into the Fort leading the caravan of Romans, trailed by a group of children wishing to be like their heroes. The knights rode into their personal small courtyard, followed by the bishop's carriage. Jols greeted the knights, taking the reins of Arthur and Lancelot. They all dismounted and the knights stood before their steeds as the Bishop was saluted by the other Roman soldiers. "Bishop, my quarters have been made available to you," Arthur stated generously.

"Yes, I must rest," he replied, leaving the anxious knights behind, not bothering to say thank you. The knight's shoulders slouched knowing their freedom would have to wait for later. Tristan and Rhyne led their horses into the stable and began to groom them from the hard ride earlier that day. Jols put each of the knights, and Sparrow's horses into their stalls, and left the stables, giving the two some privacy.

They spent the next hour in companionable silence. Their horses were a few stalls apart, and the two shared a few glances here and there. Rhyne knelt down to pat the sleeping wolf, but when she stood, Tristan was no longer in Isolde's stall. "Tris?" she called over, but was only greeted with a horse neigh. Rhyne looked around for a few more seconds, she was about to turn back to Zyfer when she felt two arms go around her waist. She stifled a small gasp, but instantly recognized the presence. "By the Gods! Tris!" Rhyne put her hand over her heart. "Shit," and she took a deep breath. "You love doing that to me, don't you?" She could sense his smile. Rhyne gave herself a wicked smirk and slammed down onto his foot with hers. Tristan tried to lean back to get off his foot, but the wall of the stall was too far away from him. He took a step backwards, but Hawk was now underneath him instead of stable ground. He fell backwards, over Hawk and landed flat on his back with a deep grunt.

Rhyne started to laugh as Hawk mumbled annoyed to Tristan, moving to the other side of the stall, laying back into another sleep. Tristan lay on the ground, letting the pain pass for a moment as Rhyne continued to laugh. "What the Woads or Saxons wouldn't give to see you now," she stifled out through her amusement. "The infamous silent and mysterious scout of Arthur Castus. Many believe to be the most deadly and scariest of all. And here you lay, flat on your back by the hand of a woman." Rhyne began to laugh even harder. "Who is smiling now, love?"

She closed her eyes as a new fit of laughter came on. Big mistake. Tristan kicked her legs from beneath her and her voice turned to a scream. It then abruptly stopped as she came in contact with the ground. Rhyne lay, looking up at the ceiling, groaning, as Tristan had done. "Okay," she breathed. "How about a truce?" Rhyne did not see him nod, but knew he did. They each sat up slowly, facing one another. A smile passed onto her face. "What would I do without you?"

Tristan looked upwards for a moment, and then answered with a serious tone. "Probably grow into an ugly, mean old hag who would enjoy picking on children and vow to kill all men." Rhyne stared with her mouth open, offended. She was speechless. Tristan held a straight face for as long as possible, and then let a smile creep onto his face.

With relief, Rhyne reached over and punched his chest. "That's a horrible thing to say! You are lucky I'm the only one that will put up with you!"

"Yes, I am lucky to have you," he said sincerely. She smiled at him affectionately. "But than again, I think I would be the only one crazy enough to deal with your temper." He had no time to respond as Rhyne pounced on top of him, and they continued to roll across the floor of the stall. In the depth of their playfulness they heard a voice enter the stables.

"Rhyne…Tristan…is that you?" It was Lancelot.

"Yes!" Rhyne managed to get out from her short breaths.

"Well, where are you?" With a little struggle they stood and appeared in Zyfer's stall. They were covered in dirt and straw was everywhere. Their were a few pieces sticking out of each of their hair, and some stuck in between little cracks in their armor, which they had not yet removed. Lancelot gave a devilish grin. "Do I want to know?"

"Just wrestling," Rhyne said simply, elbowing Tristan in the ribs. In return he shoved her a little. Then she elbowed him again, and he shoved back. This went on for a minute or so before Lancelot spoke again. "Okay, okay. Arthur wants us at the Round Table," he left chuckling to himself, and mumbled something neither of them heard. As soon as his figure disappeared, Tristan and Rhyne went through yet another fit of laughter. It came out until their stomachs could not longer handle it, and then stood regarding each other. Rhyne began to pick out the pieces of straw from his hair. "You are a mess," she chuckled.

"So are you," he combed out the straw from her red locks. They shared a kiss, but before it got deeper she stepped back.

"Come on. We can't go to the meeting looking like this, and we still have not taken our armor off. Plus you have to help me stitch my wound. Come." Rhyne took his hand and started to lead him back to the room.

"Now you are the one that's punishing me," he stated disappointed, while being dragged off.

Tristan walked in the Fortress Hall with an arm wrapped around Rhyne's shoulders, and Hawk trailing behind them. They seemed to be the last to show up. Both bowed their apologies to Arthur and took their seats with the wolf jumping into the seat next to Rhyne. He stood. "Fifteen years," he said sincerely. Arthur let that sink in for a moment. "For a good part of our lives we have suffered in a way that many have the luxury of never knowing. But we were not so lucky, being born into a life or a family we never got to choose." He took a deep breath. "But here we are, thrust into a country what many call hell." The knights agreed with a few comments. "We began as Roman and Sarmatian. Knight and Commander. And now, I think it is safe to say that we have become more than any of those. We have become brothers. Brothers in the closest sense." The knights looked around at each other and smiled, and then Arthur continued. "If I was to walk through Hell, there is no one else other than those at this table that I would want beside me."

The knights welled with pride and Lancelot stood. "And we would follow you without question," as he raised his goblet. The others raised theirs as well. Lancelot looked at his fellow brothers and then at Arthur. He smiled and sat with a respectful bow to his best friend.

Arthur almost succumbed to tears at the loyalty of those he has bled beside and led for over half of their lives. Bors on the other hand could not stop himself from crying. These men made Arthur the man he is, and always will be. If they never accepted him as their brother, believed he could lead them to freedom, follow him through fire and brimstone no matter how many of their comrades fell under his command, he himself would have died long ago. "Thank you. Thank you all for standing beside me." He took a deep breath and continued. "Let us not forget we are the fortunate ones." All the knights rose, along with Rhyne and Sparrow. "Let us raise our wine to those gallant and extraordinary men we have lost, but who will be remembered for eternity." They all raised their wine forward. Before drinking, all poured a little to the floor, for their passed brothers, and then took a drink themselves.

The moment was filled with sadness, until Bors decided to make it more cheerful. "To Freedom!" as yelled over the somberness while raising his goblet, and the others followed.

"To Home!" Galahad raised his goblet.

"To Love!" Rhyne yelled over the other voices. They all looked to her and uttered their agreement. Tristan and Rhyne held each other's as they drank, and kissed as they sat.

They began to reminisce and talk of their futures when a sudden creak of the opening doors ceased their laughter. Horton, Bishop's squeal of an assistant, entered the room. As soon as he saw the sight of a very unorthodox table he stopped in his tracks and spoke as if distracted. "His Eminence. Bishop…Gnaeus…Germanus."

The Bishop entered the room and had the same reaction. He eyed the table before him as Rhyne heard Horton whisper to Jols. "A round table, what sort of evil is this?"

Jols smiled and replied, "Arthur says for men to be men they must first all be equal."

"Bishop Germanus, welcome to our table," Arthur greeted him happily.

The knights stood with Arthur, strongly against their approval. The only one who didn't was Rhyne. She stood to no one whom she did not respect, and a bishop of the Roman Church was at the top of her list. There were only three Romans she respected: Pelagius, Arthur, and his father. She didn't expect to be adding anyone to the list anytime soon. Arthur knew the knights only stood for Arthur's sake, not the Bishop's. He didn't expect the knights to respect any Roman. That is why they are in Britain. And when he saw Rhyne sitting, with a defiant look on her face he held no grudge, and knew she would never stand to any Roman, even if he wished her to hold back her hate for them.

"I was given to understand there would be more of you," the bishop stated, trying to hide his disapproval.

Arthur was a little shocked, knowing that Rome knew how many knights were left. "We have been fighting here for fifteen years Bishop," and he continued on gently. "There were once many more of us." Arthur noticed Germanus looking at Rhyne. "Rhyne is an old friend of ours, Bishop. She has recently returned to us from a very long absence, and brought her daughter back with her, Sparrow." Arthur motioned to both the women and the Bishop seemed a little shocked that there was a second one. He had not noticed her before. Though she did not have a presence as the other one did.

The knights held stern looks. Every time their eyes looked at the bishop they were red with defiance. "Ah, of course." The bishop walked over to Arthur and took a seat next to him. His servant began to pass around goblets of wine, and the knights wondered what was wrong with their wine, but eyed the gold gleefully. "Arthur and his Knights have served with courage to maintain the honor of Rome's Empire on this last outpost of our glory. Rome is most indebted. To you noble knights. To your final days of service to the Empire."

"Day, not days." Lancelot corrected before the bishop motioned for all of them to sit.

The knights almost had to contain their laughter. They were basically kidnapped from their homes. Why would Rome care about how they defended Britain? "Now why would a Bishop, of all people, trek across the entire Empire to hand a band of Sarmatian slaves their discharge papers?" Rhyne snapped back.

Germanus glared at Rhyne and was insulted to be spoken to by such a low life, even more so that it is a woman. But seeing Arthur's ideals on equality, and how he made no action to stop her, he hid his anger and put on a fake smile. "I volunteered. It is a rare opportunity to meet such legends and heroes in the eyes of Rome. It is a pleasure to come here myself."

Hawk growled at him, but Rhyne silenced him quickly. "Hawk," he looked at her as she shook her head. "I will deal with him myself," she whispered so only she, the wolf and Tristan could hear. Rhyne and the other knights, of course, did not believe a word of this, but all except Rhyne, put on mock smiles and went along with it, just to get it all over with.

The bishop continued with his speech. "His Holiness has a personal interest in you. He inquires after each of you, and is curious to know if your knights have converted to the word of out savior or…"

But before he could finish, or Arthur could even explain Gawain burst out. "I will pray to any God, Goddess, or Devil that means our freedom!"

The other knights cheered and Rhyne just laughed at the Bishop's sudden discomfort. Bors spoke next. "I don't really mind Christianity. I remember seeing a statue of that Virgin Mary once. Beautiful," he boasted.

The other knights nodded. "Yes, quite pretty," Tristan agreed. Rhyne smacked him in reply. He just shrugged and she hit him again.

The other knights told their agreements as well and finally quieted as they were getting refills of wine. Horton looked absolutely appalled and crossed himself before saying a silent prayer. Germanus felt disgusted, but hid it with a smile of toleration. Arthur looked like an embarrassed parent and offered an apology. "You must excuse their behavior Bishop. They have retained the religion of their forefather's and I have never questioned that."

"Of course, of course," he looked disgusted again. "They are pagans. As was Rome once. And some would say Rome was better for it."

Rhyne voiced her opinion once more. "Aye they were. There was no persecution. Except towards the Christians of course. Maybe if you were one back then, you would truly understand what it's like to have your life taken from you."

The Bishop stared at her for a moment and decided to ignore her comment for the time being. "For our part, the Church has deemed such beliefs 'innocence'-"

He was cut off yet again by no other than Rhyne. "Innocent," she spoke with pure revulsion. "Do we look innocent to you? Do we look like children who are so ignorant that we have not yet been educated in the ways of your God? Ways that seem so right that they force young boys from their homes into slavery, that they see themselves as having the right to take away all people's homes and force them in serving one man who has never laid eyes on their country." The Bishop was silent. "And they are people who treat women like they are nothing. When in fact women are the ones who should be worshipped because do not your own stories say Eve was the one who picked from the Tree of Knowledge? It seems women were the only ones who were smart enough to want to be intelligent, to want to live a non-perfect life where you suffer and earn what you have. That is why the Goddess will always hold sway and never truly die."

Arthur never thought she would outbreak like this. "Rhyne-"

"No Arthur, I want an answer," she waved him off. "Of all the years we have looked death in the eyes, and fought for your precious Empire, and of all the brothers we have lost and all the scars that are present on our bodies, do we at all look innocent to you?"

"Rhyne!" Arthur stood with an angry face. "Silence! If you can't handle that, you can leave."

Rhyne looked between Arthur and Germanus a few times leaned back into her chair. She took a deep breath and suddenly gave a perfectly passive face, as if nothing had happened.

The conversation turned back to the matter at hand. "You Arthur, your path to God is through Pelagius. I saw his image in your room."

Arthur spoke with affection. "He took my father's place for me. His teachings on free will and equality have been a great influence. I look forward to our reunion in Rome."

Tristan noticed an awkward glance between the Bishop and his servant. Tristan looked next to him to Rhyne and knew she saw it as well. And the Bishop continued. "Yes," he said impassively. "Rome awaits your arrival with great anticipation. You are a hero. In Rome, you will live out your days in honor and wealth." He continued after his servant placed a box in front of him. "Alas, we are all but players in our ever changing world. Barbarians from every corner are almost at Rome's door. Because of this, Rome and the Holy Father have decided to remove ourselves from indefensible outposts, such as Britain. What will become of it is not our concern anymore." He shrugged. "I suppose the Saxons will claim it soon," he said as if it was an afterthought.

All the knights uncomfortably fidgeted in their seats, sharing glances with one another. "Saxons?" Arthur questioned.

"Yes," Germanus said. "In the North a massive Saxon incursion has begun," he said looking across the table to the knights.

"Saxons only claim what they kill," Lancelot said with a grudge.

"And only kill everything that crosses their path." Gawain said empathically. "It would take an entire legion to defeat them."

Galahad shook his head. "It's a shame really," he said sadly. "All those years of war and the Woads still don't get their land back. It is just taken by someone else."

Bors took an even sadder tone than Galahad. "And I doubt the Saxons will take me as governor. Damn them!"

Even though the Woads were technically their enemy, the knights never believed in the cause they were fighting for with Rome. How their land was taken from them was unjust, like what happened to the Sarmatians, except the Woads had enough in number to rebel against their adversary. This was wrong taking the Woads land and then leaving it for the Saxons. It was the act of a coward and an unjust man. But of course that is Rome in a nut-shell.

"Indeed," Germanus replied with no care at all. "Gentleman," he opened the case and revealed six scrolls. "Your discharge papers, with guaranteed safe conduct throughout the Roman Empire." He let that sink in for a moment before speaking again. "But first, I must have a word with your commander." He paused for a moment at the stern faces of the knights. "In private."

"We have no secrets," Arthur explained.

Once again Germanus damned Arthur's ideals on equality. But it didn't matter; they would be crushed when he reached Rome. The Bishop slammed the case hard, snapping the knights out of their revere, letting them know it would be his way. Lancelot finally stood and raised his goblet. "Come," and all looked to him. "Let us leave Roman business to Romans." He took a drink and set it back on the table.

The other knights stood as he wrapped his arm around Sparrow's shoulders and made their way to the door. Tristan intended to take the gold goblet with him. He put his other arm around Rhyne's waist and made for the door. When she felt the wolf not following them they both turned back to their seats. He was still sitting in the chair that was next to her. His eyes were nailed to the Bishop and his teeth were bared. "Little Brother," Rhyne called. It didn't faze him. "Hawk." Still no answer. "Hawk, she called in a stern voice. He finally looked to her as Rhyne was shaking her head. "Come on," she waved him on. The wolf looked back at the bishop for a moment then finally followed Rhyne and Tristan out the door.

"Are you two okay?" Tristan asked a little concerned once they were outside.

"Yea, yea. We're fine. It's just a problem that needs to be solved."

"Be careful when messing with a bishop, my love," he said.

"Oh no, Tris. He should be careful messing with me. And you all should feel the same."

"Well, that is hard to do when he has our freedom in his hands."

"That's true. But when you all realize you already are free and that we have the power, none of that will matter."

"What do you mean by that?" he asked a little confused.

Rhyne inwardly hit herself. "Nothing, Tris. Nothing. Soon the future will reveal itself." He decided not to question her anymore. He knew her magic, and trusted her with the secrets of the future.

_**How is it? Like the part with Rhyne and Lancelot? And where do you think Rhyne and the Bishop know each other from?**_


	21. Betrayal

**_Disclaimer: same as before…_**

_**Amy: Isolde is the name of Tristan's horse. Isolde is a character in the Tristan stories of the old King Arthur legends…just in case you didn't know…and speaking of Isolde I would recommend banatic66's story called "A Chosen Path". It's all about Isolde ans is very good. **_

_**LancelotTristanBaby: Thanks for reading and I'm glad you liked it…And I like your story "Helena"…**_

_**Lucillaq: OOOHHH….if you liked that confrontation you are gonna love the up coming ones with the Bishop…they will just keep getting better…and the one with Marius when they get to the estate…it is gonna be good….I even have one with Rhyne against all the knights…but that won't be until right before the battle at Badon…so you have to be patient…but it won't be that long…as soon as I get back from the trip I leave for tonight I will be writing all the time and having a chapter update every few days…my summer is just crazy**_

**_Tracy 137: I wasn't planning on putting that part with Sparrow and Lance until it came up…but I think it's okay…it's not by all means foreshadowing b/c there is conflict between Rhyne, Sparrow and the knights…her past will come out all at once and the knights may not be able to accept it…we'll see…Anyway…I couldn't resist that 'sibling' like fight…I love writing those, but it is also easy for me having an older brother and we have stupid fights like that all the time…well…it does not about cutting heads off…but you know what I mean…And writing in movie territory is a pain in the ass…that is one of the reasons it is taking me so long to get chapters up, and the fact that I have been on three back-to-back-to-back trips this summer. I am leaving on my next tonight…so I will not have another chapter up for a week and a half…_**

_**Well…here is the next one…I'm sorry it is taking so long to get these chapters up recently…I have 3 out of state week trips this summer…I just got back from one and I am leaving for my last one tonight…so bare with me for a little while longer…**_

Justice Will Rhyne

Chapter Twenty One- Betrayal

The tavern was pounding with activity. The music was fast and animated. All were laughing and drinking. The night air was cool and did the hot and sweaty skin good. The sky was glimmering with stars. The knights were the center of the party, much to the Romans distaste. Lancelot sat at his usual table, gambling with a few other Romans, with Sparrow on his lap, and apparently teaching her how to play, and catching on quite well. Bors stood at the bar, cradling his latest addition, talking to Dagonet who stood silently next to him. Gawain and Galahad stood to one side, throwing knives with Jamari and Jarrah hovering around them. While Tristan stood leaned against the wall with one arm around Rhyne's shoulders, holding a mug of ale in his hand. Hawk lay beside them as they watched Gawain and Galahad's game progress.

Tristan looked down at Rhyne, whose head was resting against his shoulder. She was looking ahead of her in a calm manner. But he saw something in his eyes, something he had only seen one other time: when she left them 14 years ago. Concern, anguish, fear. "Are you okay?" he asked, with a slight twinge of worry.

"Yes, I'm fine," she answered simply.

"I can see it in your eyes," which made her stiffen. "What's wrong?"

Her eyes wondered for a moment before she turned to him. "I am worried about what is about to happen," she said softly, now showing the concern in her face.

Tristan wondered what she meant. The only thing happening was their freedom. What else could she mean? He thought deeper for moment. She wasn't…No. "You are not ill are you?" he asked hurriedly.

"No, I'm perfectly fine." He calmed. "But I am very troubled inwardly." Rhyne knew she should not be saying this to him, but he saw something was wrong, she couldn't lie.

"Inwardly? Did you have a vision?"

"Not necessarily. Just a bad feeling is all. A very bad one. Something ahead of us. But I don't know what it is." That is the closest to lying she could get. It was not fully a lie, nor fully the truth. Somewhere in between. Rhyne wished he would just let it go.

Sensing her discomfort with the conversation he did not press it any further. She would explain when she was ready. He looked over to the musicians in the side of the courtyard, opposite the bar. A smile snaked onto his face and he turned to face her. "Dance with me?" he whispered.

She gave a dubious smile. "You know how to dance?"

"You taught me long ago."

Rhyne chuckled as he began to pull her towards the middle of the courtyard, where she had sung last night. "No, I tried to teach you. There is a difference."

He ignored her reply as he left her, center stage, and whispered something in one of the musician's ears. He nodded and Tristan joined Rhyne once more. He stood a few steps from her, in a normal standing position. "What are you up to?" Rhyne asked, seeing his wicked smile.

"Remember when you told me that way I fight is like a dance?" She nodded. "Well, I realized that too. Just follow me."

The song they were playing suddenly stopped and the musician Tristan spoke to whispered something to the others. The stop in the music caught the eye of some in the courtyard, and saw the two in the center. The Romans were amused to see the scout in the center, wondering what he thought he was doing. Rhyne shook her head as the music began to play. A faster beat than the other songs they played. As the second string of beat began Rhyne realized she knew the song, and laughed at what Tristan and she were now going to do. She forgot they had done this before. A long time ago. He nodded at her quickly and they began to move. In unison, their right arms went behind their heads, and came back to theirs sides slowly. Their feet took one step back, turning their bodies sideways, and their left hands came up to join the right one, which were now positioned in front of them.

All eyes were now peeled on them as they stood in the position for a moment, and then swiftly began to move. The knights were astonished to see Tristan, the ever so silent knight, dancing. As he and Rhyne danced on, circling and coming in close in a fast pace, the knights realized what they were doing, and a happy and bright memory came blasting forward. Right before Rhyne was taken from them, there was a day in the stables where Lancelot saw Rhyne trying to teach Tristan to dance. He gathered all the boys and they continued to spy on the two until they stopped. Tristan was doing horribly at the normal dancing steps, so Rhyne came up with a crazy idea, which apparently worked.

Seeing as how fluid and graceful Tristan's steps with his sword were, Rhyne decided to incorporate those movements into a dancing step. With no music, it would seem Tristan and Rhyne were sparring, but having music, making the steps and movements with their hands follow the beat, it was more than just sparring, but a true dance.

Tristan saw the loss of fear in her eyes as it turned to merriment. How he loved her smile. The music went on for a few more moments, and with the last beat Tristan turned Rhyne into him, her back against his chest and their arms entwined. The clapping and the cheers went off. The two stood there for a moment, looking at each other, breathing hard. They finally parted and stood before each other, as they had begun, and made the same movement of their right arms behind their backs, and bringing them down again, as if sheathing their swords.

As Tristan and Rhyne made there way off the 'dance floor' a few comments were said to them from the villagers they walked past and surprisingly a few Romans gave compliments as well. The knights were still too shocked to say anything as the two stood back against the wall they were at before the performance. Vanora walked up to them both holding a flagon of ale in her hand. "That was beautiful, dears. Where on earth did that come from Tristan?" she asked wistfully.

"Don't really know," he said seriously. Rhyne elbowed him in the ribs softly as Vanora went on.

"I wish my Bors would do that with me. But we all know he is not that graceful. He would kill me before learning all the right steps," she said walking off laughing.

Tristan whispered into Rhyne's ear. "I think she's right. But then she would come back to kill Bors as well." Rhyne burst out at laughing.

From what Rhyne thought, the knights were too embarrassed to come and talk to them of their dancing. She did not know why, but they never went over to say anything. Not that is bothered her, it was just a little strange. _A male thing_, she thought.

As Gawain and Galahad continued their game Rhyne and Tristan decided to finally butt in. Galahad threw a knife and it landed at the center. He smiled, happy with himself as Gawain blew his lips defeated. In the midst of Galahad triumph a knife whizzed past his ear and landed in the hilt of his knife. And seconds later another hit that hilt, so there were three knives hilt to blade stuck in the wood.

The two looked back and saw Tristan and Rhyne contently leaning against the wall.

"Tristan! Rhyne!" Galahad called out agitated and amazed at the same time.

"How did you do that?" Gawain asked them with a slur in his words.

"How many times do we have to tell you," Rhyne said with a mock annoyance. "We aim for the middle," Her and Tristan said together. There were a few laughs around them as Rhyne settled back into Tristan's chest. A few moments went by until he spoke again. "You know I would have loved to lash out at the Bishop just as you did, but I would rather have freedom than that few small moments of satisfaction."

_If they would only open your eyes_, she thought.

"I am worried what you did may come back to haunt you."

"I lived with that fear for fourteen years. It's about time I returned the favor."

"I doubt that they are afraid of you. They have control over us, they have control of the world."

"Oh really? He nodded. "Then why did Rome attack and demolish Sarmatia? Why did they enslave the world's best known warriors into the most chaotic province in the Empire generation after generation?" Rhyne waited a moment for an answer, but he didn't give any. She sighed. "All it takes is one voice, and that one turns into thousands. Rome's strongest ally is fear; that is why they occupy the whole world. But one single voice can destroy that, as it did here. Boudicca was the bravest to stand first, and still, 300 years later her war, and her voice lives on. She refused to bow before an oppressive ruler. The Woads live by their own rule, not by Rome's, because they chose that. It is a dangerous life, for there you play with death, but to die free is better to die a slave. You cannot give in to fear. I did once, but no more."

"And if you should die?"

"Sparrow was right: It would have been for a good cause. Rome does not kill their enemies silently, but only when the world is watching. To die a martyr is to die a hero. Then their voice is echoed through anger. Tribes that were once enemies, become allies. And a war that Rome cannot stop began. And that is who I stand with. And if I should die, I would join the company of Boudicca and her followers. How honored I would be to stand with them."

"So peace will never be found."

"Oh it will be, but only in small amounts. Everything that once was, fell. It is because we are human that we make mistakes. But I would have it no other way, for it is only through suffering and chaos that we may find peace. And it is only with a true leader that countries can find peace."

"What are you saying?"

"All in good time, my love. Soon it will reveal itself."

The conversation faded as Bors began to pull Vanora into the center of the courtyard. "Shut up!" he yelled and the music stopped. "Vanora will sing."

She tried to refuse but, all the knights yelled out to her insisting. And so, the steady sound of her voice filled the courtyard as everyone turned to listen.

_Land of bear and land of eagle_

_Land that gave us birth and blessing_

_Land that calls us ever homeward_

_We will go home across the mountains_

_We will go home_

_We will go home _

_We will go home across the mountains…_

Rhyne looked at her fellow brothers and knights, seeing their longing for the Steppes in their faces. Most mouthing the words along with her, or holding a stone expression staring into the far distance, trying to imagine their homelands. In Bors case, letting a few tears fall.

And then Rhyne saw Arthur appear at the far entrance at the courtyard pausing there. She noticed the passive look on his face, but the grave dullness of his eyes. They locked eyes. Arthur saw the sternness of her face, and the fire in her eyes. For some reason, Arthur knew she knew what was happening. And what concerned him more was she had been telling him this would happen.

The song was abruptly ended as Arthur was called into the tavern by Jols. The knights began to drift towards him happily and fairly drunk as well, except for a few instances. Rhyne saw the passive look on Arthur's face, but also saw the graveness in his eyes, and knew what was in store for them. "Knights," he paused for moment, enraged at Rome for making him do this. "Brothers in arms. Your courage has been tested beyond all limits, but now I must ask you for one further trial. We must leave on final mission for Rome, before our freedom can be granted." He stopped before continuing, letting the news sink in, which didn't seem to be working. A few gave smile, thinking it as a joke, sniggering and shaking their heads. Except for Lancelot, knowing it to be true. Rhyne crossed her arms before her chest showing a passive matching that of her lover standing next to her. Lancelot shook his head slightly, not in the least bit surprised.

"Above the Wall far in the North there is a family in need of rescue," Arthur continued. "They are trapped by Saxons. Our orders are to secure their safety."

"Roman Bastards!" Bors lashed out.

"Bors!" Lancelot cautioned with a menacing tone. Sparrow laid a hand on his chest, soothing him a bit.

"Let the Romans take care of their own!" Bors lashed again.

"Above the Wall is Woad territory," Gawain said seriously with a slur.

"Our duty to Rome, if it was ever a duty is done. Our pact with Rome is done," Galahad said trying to hold in his anger.

"Round Table! Equality! I don't see a round table. I see a long table, with him on the end of it!" Bors pointed accusingly at Arthur, who calmly stood his ground. "How many of us have died for your bloody Rome?" he hissed. "Every knight here has laid his life on the line for you. For you. And now instead of freedom, you want more blood, our blood! You think more of Roman blood than you do of ours!"

"Bors!" Arthur silenced him. "These are our orders. We leave at first light. And when we return your freedom will be waiting for you, a freedom we can embrace with honor," but his voice was drowned out with a scream from Bors.

"I am free man! I will choose my own fate!" The baby in Vanora's arms began crying, recognizing the yell of his father.

"Yea, yea. We are all going to die someday," Tristan said calmly slicing his apple. "If it's a death of a Saxon had that frightens you, stay home," he directed to Bors. Rhyne smiled slightly at the fearlessness of Tristan, who would stand nose-to-nose with death.

Galahad shook his head heatedly. "Listen, if you are so eager to die you can die right now, he threatened pulling out a dagger, walking towards Tristan. But Lancelot got between the raging young knight and calm scout. "I've got something to live for!" Galahad yelled towards his commander.

"The Romans have broken their word," Dagonet spoke for the first time. "We have the word of Arthur. That is good enough, he said loyally. "I'll prepare," and he began to walk away.

Rhyne kept her eyes on Arthur, and saw a pang on relief swell over him when Dagonet spoke. Rhyne would have known, even without her visions, that they would follow him on this mission. How could he have even a pinch of doubt?

"Bors," Dagonet looked to his pacing friend. "Are you coming?" he asked expectantly.

"Of course I'm coming!" Bors yelled to him insulted. "I can't let you go on your own, you all will get killed! I'm just saying what you're all thinking."

Rhyne saw him mutter something to himself, but didn't hear it, as he began to follow Dagonet down the alleyway that leaded to the inn. Tristan gave a nod to Arthur, kissed Rhyne on the cheek and followed the other two. Rhyne never took her eyes off Arthur, which began to intimidate him. He did not like that look. It was the one of a powerful witch staring at her enemy. "And you Gawain?" he asked looking away from her.

Gawain gave a reluctant nod. They all of course did not want to go, but betraying Arthur would be betraying their souls. "I am with you," and he looked to his friend. "Galahad as well," he answered for him. Galahad looked at him crossly, but Gawain did not falter. The younger knight threw down his flagon of ale in anger and followed where the other knights had gone, with Gawain in his wake.

Arthur looked at Lancelot, Sparrow and Rhyne for a moment, knowing the two were going, and walked away. Arthur closed his eyes in relief as soon as he turned from them. Rhyne followed Arthur's retreating figure as Lancelot turned to Sparrow. "I will meet you back at the room." She nodded. "I love you," and his kissed her sweetly before following Arthur's past. Sparrow and Rhyne watched him until he was out of sight.

Sparrow let out a long sigh. "Mother…"

Rhyne nodded, not looking away from Lancelot and Arthur's path. "So it begins," she said simply, and then walking forward, following the same path.

Rhyne slowly entered the stables in the shadows, seeing Lancelot approach Arthur in midst a prayer. _Damned Christian, your God can not help you now_, Rhyne thought to herself.

"My faith is what protects me, Lancelot. Why do you challenge this?" Arthur asked.

"I do not like anything that puts a man on its knees," he answered with a stern glare.

"No man fears to kneel before the God he trusts," Arthur countered. "Without faith, without belief in something what are we?"

Rhyne shook her head. _Faith in a powerless God...Fools is what you are._

"To try and get passed the Woads in the North is insanity," Lancelot said vigorously.

"Them we have fought before," Arthur replied in a calm tone.

"Not North of the Wall!" Arthur did not reply, so he walked closer. "How many Saxons, hmm?" but still no answer. "How many!" Lancelot tried to bang in his friends head. Seeing as how yelling was doing nothing he took a deep breath and continued calmly. "Answer me one question…Do you believe in this mission?"

"These people need out help. It is our duty-" but he was interrupted by another fuming Lancelot.

"I don't care about your charge. And I don't give a damn about Romans, Britons, or this island. If you decide to spend eternity in this place Arthur so be it, but suicide can not be chosen for another!"

"And yet you choose death for this family!" Arthur yelled back.

"No, I choose life! And freedom, for myself and the men," howled back, hitting the wooden pillar next to him as he went. Lancelot shook his head at his commander's honor to Rome and sat down in frustration.

Arthur walked closer to him. "How many times have we snatched victory from the jaws of defeat? Outnumbered, outflanked yet still we triumph." Lancelot rolled his eyes. "With you at my side we can do so again." Lancelot finally looked at him. "Lancelot, we are knights. What purpose do we serve if not for such a cause?" Arthur asked almost firmly.

Lancelot shook his head again, defeated in Arthur's nobility. "Arthur you fight for a world that will never exist. Never. There will always be a battlefield, he stood and stood closer to him. "I will die in battle, of that I'm certain. And hopefully a battle of my choosing," he said acceptingly. "But if it be this one, grant me a favor. Don't bury me in our sad little cemetery. Burn me. Burn me and cast my ashes to a strong east wind, so that I may one day return home," and he walked away, leaving no more room to argue.

Arthur did not watch him leave, worried now of holding all the lives of his men in his hands. What was he to do?

"So," a voice from behind startled him. "The Knights of the Round Table are to save the day once more?" Arthur tried to pinpoint the location of the voice when Rhyne walked out of the shadows.

"Rhyne? How long have you been there?" he asked, surprised of her presence.

"Long enough." She stayed on the opposite side of the stable as he.

"Are you here to protest as well?" Arthur said, ready for more opposition.

"No. Not to protest," she said simply. "To help you see the truth, as I have tried to do many times."

"It is more than that. You keep saying to hate my country," he snapped. "My country."

Rhyne laughed. "Your country. Arthur, you have never set eyes on Rome, yet you still blindly defend it. Willing to give your life you know nothing of," she said amused.

"I do not have to be there to know what Rome is?"

"So what is it?" Rhyne asked interested.

"A place of knowledge and wisdom, trying to bring peace to a chaotic world."

Rhyne snorted. "A place of great minds, yes, as you said earlier today with Lance. But tell me, have these minds ever been listened to?"

"Of course they have. Of all people you should know. Pelagius taught you as well as I."

Rhyne closed her eyes as her heart constricted. She still did not have the heart to tell him the truth about their old friend. "Free will and equality has never been the ways of Rome." He didn't speak. "For love of the Gods, Arthur look at how they defend Britain!" she burst out, walking closer to him. "It lies in the hands of small bands of Sarmatian warriors enslaved by Rome. And they have done so for three hundred years. They search for slaves to protect themselves. The graves out on that field are proof of that! Did they die of their own free will? Is that the fate they chose!"

"It always falls to a few-"

"To sacrifice for the good of many," she finished. "Yes, I know! I remember that as well. And that I do believe, but not when it comes to taking young boys from their homelands and families and making them fit for that fate. That is not sacrifice Arthur, that is slavery," she ended calmly. "Many of us are born with a sword in our hand and do have the free will to choose our fate, as you and I did. They did not have that choice."

"Do you not think I know that!" he turned on her. "Do you not think I am reminded of that every time another grave is filled! That lingers on my mind every second of every day!"

They stared at each other a moment, letting the tension calm a little. "Ever since I have suffered at the hands of another I have never bowed to anyone, I have never feared fear anyone. This you have found out. I am free, and have been for fourteen years. Everyone is born free, it just takes true chaos for them to know that, and then some cower in feat. I fight for the cause of freedom; that everyone deserves to live their life without fear, as I do. But there is something else I fight for, something that the world needs now more than anything, and that's justice."

"Rome pursues justice."

"Do they? Is enslaving men just?" He did not answer. "What do you fight for Arthur if you think Rome is just?"

"I fight for the knights. To get them their rightfully earned freedom."

"So then what is this mission that keeps their freedom from them?"

"They are innocents that we have the power to save."

"You mean Romans, not innocents."

"No-"

"Why can they not send a Roman Legion? They have more numbers and have more of a chance of bringing that family here alive. Three times more of a chance than you and your knights have. They send them because they are expendable, because they can care less about Sarmatians and their freedom."

"That's not true," Arthur said with denial heavy on his voice.

"Do you really believe that?" Rhyne asked desperately. "If they really cared your men would already have their freedom. You're betraying them Arthur! You're betraying your brothers!"

Rhyne looked Arthur in the eye and saw what her words did to him. It was a knife in the heart. She plopped down into a pile of hay in front of Zyfer's stall. After a few moments Arthur sat down next to her and took her hand. "To tell you the truth, Rhyne, I hate what they are doing to us; I have for a few years now, since…since…"

"Since Gareth died," Rhyne finished for him. Arthur nodded.

"I want you to know," Arthur began, "that when the Bishop told me we had another mission, I threatened his life if anything happens to us or if he doesn't give our papers the moment we return."

Rhyne chuckled. "Now I'm talking," and she elbowed him slightly. "But I would have done it if you didn't. Actually, I might do it as well. You know me." Arthur nodded. She sighed. "You remember the last time he was here, right?" Rhyne let him think a moment, but didn't wait for an answer. "It was when I left." Rhyne paused a moment. "He was the one who had me sold." She felt Arthur tense and Rhyne sniggered, which he was surprised at.

"Is that funny?" he asked thoroughly confused.

"Come now, Arthur," she just laughed at his face. "Don't worry, big brother. I am taking care of it."

"I am not sure if I even want to ask," he said put one hand through his hair.

"I don't think you want to either." Rhyne laughed at his face again. "Arthur your name won't even be linked to it, I swear. I doubt Rome will even miss him, since almost every Bishop is the same." They were silent for a while longer, letting the tension flow away from them, and Rhyne spoke again. "Arthur," and she paused. "What I said earlier," Rhyne hesitated on what to say next, but Arthur stopped her.

"You were angry, Rhyne. It was understandable. I'm sure the others wanted to say the same thing, but didn't. I am not angry with you. If anything, I am glad you said it."

Rhyne sighed with relief. She sat there for a moment longer and then stood. "Well, I had better start to get ready. Dawn?" Arthur nodded. "Get some rest, Arthur. You are going to need it," and she walked out of the stables.


	22. Family

**_Disclaimer: same as before…, but I use a line from Troy…I couldn't resist._**

_**Thanks all my reviewers from last chapter. I will comment on those reviews when I post the next one…it is 3am and I need to go to bed. **_

_**Sorry this chapter took so long…**_

Justice Will Rhyne

Chapter Twenty-Two- Family

Rhyne entered the room she shared with Tristan and found him checking over his light-weight armor. Rhyne took hers and began to do the same. "If I ask you not to go, would it do any use?" Tristan asked keeping his eyes on his armor.

"Would it do any use if I ask you not to go?" she asked in reply. When he didn't answer she smiled.

They worked and packed in silence. When alone they never really said much, only things here and there. Talk was never needed between them. They had a deeper connection, one that went beyond communication, but deep down to the soul. A look, a touch, a smile, it showed more than words could ever say.

"Do you think nothing of this, Tristan?" Rhyne finally broke the silence as she finished packing her saddlebags, slipping _Meditations_ in on top.

"It's just another mission," he said shortly looking over his heavy cloak for holes.

"It's more than just another mission. You should be celebrating your freedom rather than sharpening your weapons," Rhyne said as she saw him find a hole. Rhyne took out a needle and thread and took the cloak from him. She sat on the bed and began mending it.

"Does it matter if we should have our freedom or not? None of us will stop fighting. We will all die by the sword. Whether is in the next few days or in twenty years what does it matter?" Tristan asked looking out the window to the half moon.

Rhyne paused and looked up at him. The silver light shown across his passive features, but Rhyne could see the flash of sadness in his eyes. She put down the cloak and walked over to him, wrapping her arms around his waist, laying her head on his shoulder. "One day I will die by the sword as well, but you should be able to die free."

"Does it matter either way?"

"Of course it does. You are not choosing your death here, they are. Everyone has the right to choose their own death, Tris. Even an enslaved Sarmatian who has fought for Rome for fifteen years," she said quietly.

"A warrior's fate," he reminded her. Rhyne closed her eyes at the memory. _They still do not understand_, she thought to herself. "Tomorrow or twenty years from now, what does it matter?"

"It matters to me," she looked up into his eyes. She hated this man's fearlessness. It would one day be the end of him. "This is a suicide mission. All know it."

Tristan took a deep breath. "If we can choose our own death, we can choose to fight it."

"What do you mean?"

"Look at Sparrow? We all thought she was dead. In all honesty, she should have died. But she fought it, and she lived." He paused, letting that sink in. "If you have the will, you can fight anything and win."

Rhyne nodded in understanding. "But do we have the will?" she whispered.

Tristan kissed the top of her head. "Come," he took her hand and led her to the bed. "We need rest." He took off his boots and tunic, and pulled back the furs while Rhyne just pulled off her slippers and fell down onto the sheets.

Rhyne giggled. "I love doing that," and she breathed deeply.

"What?"

"Falling onto freshly cleaned sheets."

Tristan just stared at her for a moment, and then put his back to the bed and fell back next to her. She laughed as he gave her a quirky look. "It's really not that fun for me. But it will be when I do this," he was on top of her in a flash, tickling her sides. Rhyne began laughing at the top of her lungs, trying to push her hands away, but failing miserably.

Their laughs echoed the corridor as other knights readied themselves for their fates.

A few hours later, Tristan lay sleeping with Rhyne lying on his chest. He was woke with the sound of a closing door a ways down the hall. Estimating it was Lancelot's door he wondered what he was doing up this time of night. He looked at Rhyne sleeping peacefully upon him. He slowly slipped out from underneath her and recovered her with the furs. She fidgeted with a smile on her face. He placed a light kiss on her temple, and backed away from the bed. After tying up his boots and tossing a tunic over his head, he opened the door and shut it softly.

He heard footsteps around the hall and followed them. They were too light to be a grown man, or even Lancelot for that matter. These footsteps were trained to be light. He followed the steps around the corner, and saw a shadow on the opposite wall. He followed. Tristan peered around the corner and saw a retreating figure in a hooded cloak, heading for the stairs of the battlements. The figure came to the guard and pulled down the hood, revealing themself to be none other than Sparrow. The guard let her past and she climbed the steps. Tristan followed her up the steps and found her looking over the ghostly trees, where the Woads were the spirits that roamed in them.

He smiled. "You are more like your mother than you could know."

Sparrow turned casually to see the smiling figure of Tristan. She answered with a grin. "Do you always sneak up on people?"

"Do you always walk silent enough for the untrained ear?"

"Mother taught me," and she gave a wicked smile. "I heard you walk out of your room."

Tristan was a taken aback, and then it was replaced by disappointment. He, a lifelong scout, was just beaten by a fourteen year old. Sparrow laughed at his embarrassment. "Tristan, don't worry so much. I have been trained to do this since I was a little girl. Living in the Northern Woods makes you learn faster than normal, believe me."

He pushed away his embarrassment, but swore he would never forget it. Tristan had a hard time of looking her in the eye for a few moments after that, but continued to speak. "What are you doing up so early?"

She went grim. "Can't sleep," she said shortly, not wanting to speak of it.

Tristan just nodded, not wanting to force her. He hoped that he and Sparrow could develop a stable relationship, but he was never good and becoming friends with anyone. The only one he made true friends with was Rhyne, who is the only one outside of the knights. "You want to go." It was not a question. Sparrow didn't answer right away but absentmindedly traced her finger over the still pink and sore scar on her upper ribs.

"Yes," she whispered finally. "But we all know what happened last time." She sounded ashamed, but he did not understand why. What was there to be ashamed of? Or was it that she was injured, and Rhyne was right? That she was not ready to face the Saxons.

"There is no reason to be ashamed of what happened," he said finally looking her in the eye. He spoke with softness to her, very different from his usual passiveness Sparrow was so used to hearing and seeing.

Sparrow turned to him and returned his gaze. "Nothing passes you does it," she gave a small smile, trying to sound amused.

Tristan shrugged. "No." And he went passive again. "Except the occasional trained ear." He was still hiding his disappointment in himself.

Sparrow revealed a smug smirk despite herself. "I will stay. The Saxons did not come for a family, they came to conquer. And seven knights, and one knight's daughter is not going to stop them. They will be here soon enough, and then I will prove myself worthy."

He shook his head. "You never need to prove yourself worthy to us. We all believe that you deserve to stand next to us as an equal."

"Then why does Mother and Arthur refuse to let me!" she slammed her hands on the wall of the battlements in frustration and anger.

"Because she sees something that happens to all young warriors. And that is lack of self-confidence and self-respect," he explained carefully. "We all know you are a deadly adversary, but not until _you_ know that, will you truly be one, will you be feared." He let it all sink in, as she stared out over the rustling leaves.

Sparrow stood defiant, as her mother always stood, refusing to believe it. _I have always believed in myself_, she kept whispering in her head. _He lies. They don't respect me because I am young._ Sparrow kept trying to convince herself she was right, but how could she think the man that stood next to her was telling her lies. He wouldn't, not to her. _But Mother and I have been telling them lies._ No, he could not read that from her face. He knew everything, saw everything. Sparrow pushed it deep inside her, where no one would ever know. A place where secrets could destroy a soul. This was that type of secret. She was worried she was being a statue of crystal, so she straightened and put on a fake smile. "You know, I think that's the most words you have said to me at once since I have come here." Tristan chuckled. "And that is one of the only times I have heard you laugh. Actually, I think it's the first."

Tristan shuffled his feet, a little embarrassed. What was with these two women making him feel different, making him feel vulnerable? But he wouldn't have it any other way. He loved them both. They stood in a comfortable silence, just enjoying each other's company, considering the impending doom that lie before them. Sparrow noticed he began fidgeting again. "Did you want to ask something, Tristan?"

Why was he so nervous? He never felt this way before they walked back into his life. Damn his nerves. "Did she ever tell you who your father was?" he asked, wanting to come to the question he wanted to ask slowly.

Sparrow turned and observed him closely, and saw pain. "It hurts you…doesn't? Knowing…" He looked away from her, up at the moon as it was begin covered by black clouds. The silver glass over the world disappeared and was replaced with darkness. Tristan was grateful for the clouds. He did not want her to see the single tear roll down his cheek, he wiped it quickly as she looked away from him. Sparrow gazed up to see the last remnants of the crescent moon fade away and sighed deeply. "No, mother never told me. Only that he died bravely, protecting her."

"From what?"

"She never said that either, but they way she speaks of him…"

"What?" _Gods don't tell me she loved him…_

"She blames herself…for his death."

"How old were you?"

"I was not yet born, only barely developing in her womb." Sparrow knew what the next question was going to be. "There was never anyone else for her, nor was there anyone who was close to a father to me." She sighed as the wind began to pick up, blowing northward. The weather would follow them tomorrow. "Only an old man who could have been my grandfather, since I never met my true grandfather either."

Tristan stayed silent, still not quite sure how to ask this. "All I heard was stories," Sparrow continued. "Stories of those I would never meet, except for you, all of you." Sparrow would not say more until Tristan looked at her. When he finally did, she could only see what the few torches allowed, but it was enough to see his sorrow. "She missed all of you so much, but you most of all. I have never seen her so happy before than in the last weeks. Back in the woods, she rarely smiled, or spoke. Much like you. And now, she is a different person. I would expect how she was before she left here."

Tristan nodded as a faint smile reached his face. "Oh, yes. Always smiling, laughing, joking, just as vulgar as we were. She was not afraid to only be around boys, who only thought of mischief." Tristan snorted. "In fact, there were many occasions where she was the ringleader."

Sparrow laughed out loud. "You will have to tell me stories of her, of how she was."

"Oh the stories," Tristan laughed to himself. "It would have to be in secret. She would kill me if she knew." Their laughing soon faded once more into silence.

Rhyne awoke in her bed, reaching across to find Tristan gone. She opened her eyes and saw he was not in the room. _Where would he go now? _Rhyne put on a thin pair of slippers, and wrapped a fur around her bare shoulders, covering the thin sleeping gown she wore. She walked down the halls to the stables, but found no one but horses. Hawk popped his head up at the sound of footsteps and stood from his laying position in front of Zyfer's stall. "Hello, Little Brother." Rhyne bent down to greet him. He nuzzled her lovingly. "Sleep my friend. We have long days ahead of us." Hawk did as he was told, and went back to his laying position in the hay. "You too Zyfer. Your legs will be tested over the next few days." Rhyne patted the horse's cheek, and he bent down to the floor of his stall and lied down.

Rhyne went from the stables to the gardens, with still no sign of Tristan. Then she walked to the most northern wall of the fort, and found him, standing beside Sparrow, up on the battlements. She stood watching them in silence, wondering what they were doing, so she inched as close as possible without being detected.

Tristan began shuffling his feet again, in the again uncomfortable silence. Sparrow shook her head. "Tristan, if there is something you want to ask, just ask."

Having such a deadly reputation, he was frightened about the question he was about to ask. He looked away and spoke. "Sparrow…I know you have only had your mother, and I would never want to ruin the memory of your true father…but…if you ever…" he hesitated. "…if you ever…wanted…"

Sparrow reached out and touched his shoulder, stopping his struggle. Tristan turned to her as she brought her thick cloak closer to her body at the growing breeze. "I never knew my true father, only what mother tells me, and I would give every breath of my body to know him." She sighed, and saw a passiveness take him over. He was beginning to be hurt. "But I admire you, and wish that one day I may see the world as you do. I could easily learn to love you as a father, if you could love me as a daughter." He said nothing, he did not even move. Sparrow now stretched into nervousness and gave an uneasy chuckle. "When she told me stories, I always hoped that you would accept me as a daughter, and I-"

She was cut off by an unexpected crushing hug. Sparrow found her head against his chest, and his arms wrapped around her shoulders. She stayed stunned for a moment, but wrapped her arms around his waist in return. "I already love you as a daughter, and always will."

They stayed in each other's arms for a long while. "Be safe up north. I would hate to lose you now."

"And you don't come after us this time. It ached my heart to see you hurt," he whispered in her ear.

"What are you two doing?" The voice startled them and they turned to find Rhyne with a fur wrapped around her gazed on them with a smile. "Something I should know about?" she asked with a mock anger.

"Yes," Sparrow claimed, and Rhyne raised her eyebrow. "We are a family, aren't we?" she looked up to Tristan.

"Yes, daughter, we are," and he kissed her forehead. "Come, join us my love."

Rhyne walked to them and put an arm around each. "A family?"

"A family," Sparrow nodded.

"Well then…family. We should rest," Rhyne proposed.

"Yes," Sparrow yawned. "I am tired. I will see you off in the morning. Goodnight," she smiled and walked away before they could reply.

A hawk landed on the wall of the battlements. "Hello, old friend," Tristan said to her. "We will be riding hard tomorrow, you should rest."

She screeched to him in protest. "Hawk is down in the stables," Rhyne added. The bird tilted its head and then launched off into the direction of the stables.

Tristan looked at Rhyne in disbelief. "I still don't understand how you can communicate with animals in that way. Just so plainly."

Rhyne smiled and snuggled closer to him. "I must have inherited it from my mother, and her people. They had a special relationship with animals. They were allies. Sometimes even fought side by side." Rhyne sighed. "Tris, you believe the legends that fallen knights become great horses?"

"I do."

"What of women? What do great women become?"

"I have never thought of that before. Would they not become horses as well?"

"I don't think so. We are different, our souls, our spirits. We are free in different ways. I do not think we would be the same." Rhyne thought for a moment. "Maybe we become wolves, rulers of the forests."

"Or maybe," Tristan whispered, "you learn to fly."

Rhyne looked up to the stars and smiled dreamily. "I would love to fly. The stars would be within my reach."

"What about me?" he asked.

"I'm afraid I would only be able to tell you about it," she looked up at him.

"And how would we do this?" he teased her with a passionate kiss.

"Maybe I would have to become a horse after all."

They ended up not sleeping.

Rhyne awoke to a lovely smell. She opened her eyes and found a single partly bloomed rose lying on Tristan's pillow, who was gone from the room. Rhyne brought the rose to her nose and took in its remarkable scent. She gazed out the window to the stars disappearing in the gathering light of the sun that had not yet risen over the distant mountains. She rose and began to dress. Her trousers and breast band were on when Tristan walked in, dressed in his armor carrying a small tray of food and two small bags of food to pack in their saddlebags. He set down the food and walked over to Rhyne, greeting her with a fervent kiss.

"I could get used to this," Rhyne said breathless. "Thank you for the rose. It's beautiful," and she slipped it behind her ear.

"Not nearly as beautiful as you. Are you hungry?" he whispered.

"Starving," as she nibbled on his ear. Rhyne gave a last peck on his neck and moved to the food. She stood with her back to him, still bare skinned. Tristan walked next to her wrapping an arm around her shoulders as he reached for an apple and bit a chunk out of it. Rhyne giggled. "You know," she said with a full mouth, "I knew that is what you were going to eat."

"Come, we need to hurry. The sun will be up shortly," he took one of the bags of food and stuffed it in his saddlebags. Rhyne finished dressing and took the rose from behind her ear, wrapped carefully in a small piece of cloth and packed it.

They were joined by Lancelot and Sparrow down the hall while on their way to the stables. "So what am I suppose to be?"

"Lance, what are you talking about?" Rhyne asked as she shifted the saddlebags on her shoulder.

"A son, or a brother?"

"Oh, The Gods would not bless me with such an annoying and accursed son."

"Hey!" Lancelot protested. "I'm not that bad!"

"Actually, you are," Rhyne said matter-of-factly.

They walked into the stables, with all the knights present, except Arthur was nowhere to be found. Rhyne went straight to Zyfer's stall and dropped her saddlebags. "Hey there boy. Are you ready for a long trip?" The horse whipped its head enthusiastically. She noticed Hawk was sitting at the top of the bleachers, watching what everyone was doing. "Do you want to work your legs a bit?" he whipped his head again. Rhyne opened the gate of the stall and looked to Galahad as he circled the stables with his horse. "Galahad, are you almost done?"

But Rhyne did not wait for answer, and didn't care at the moment. Arthur walked in the main doors and all the knights stopped what they were doing and looked up. Rhyne saw Lancelot look at his best friend and he quickly went back to what he was doing. Galahad did not stop to let Arthur through, but their commander luckily had no problem going through the horses circles. Rhyne gave him a reassuring look as he passed her, then looked back at Galahad. "Galahad, are you done?" Rhyne asked with a little irritation this time. He gave her a death look, but she just returned it. When he finally dismounted she sighed heavily. "Thank you."

Rhyne left Zyfer's stall open and she walked to the middle of the stables. Zyfer followed on her heels. "Rhyne, shouldn't put a lead rope on him?" Gawain asked.

"No need," she said simply. The horse stood next to her. Rhyne laid face up on the dirt.

"What are you doing?" Gawain looked at her taken aback at her.

"A little exercise." Rhyne closed her eyes. Zyfer moved his head down and nuzzled her cheek. She opened her eyes as he began to lie down next to her. Rhyne crawled onto his bare back like she was an injured soldier. Zyfer stood as softly as possible. Once up Rhyne pat his neck. "That a boy, and now you can join us, Little Brother." The wolf jumped down from his position on the bleachers and stood next to Zyfer. Rhyne continued to give a series of whistles and clicks. The horse and wolf moved in perfect unison next to each other. They trotted in a few circles and she gave a few more whistles, they changed direction. Every few moments she gave different whistles and clicks, and the horse and wolf changed their motion in perfect unison. When she gave a long low whistle they both stopped. Three clicks and Zyfer reared back, as if kicking enemies in front. He landed back on his feet and stood still. "There's my boys." She slid off the back of Zyfer's back and he immediately walked back into his stall.

Rhyne looked up at all the knights, who were stunned at what they had just saw. Speaking to the animals was one thing, even Tristan could do that. But to see the obedience they had just seen. No horse they had ever heard of ever did that with its master. No, not master. Friend. The three of them were companions, through and through. "Oh come now," she said at all the stares. "If you talked to your horses and treat them the way I do, they too would treat you like a friend," she said fairly annoyed with their gaping at her.

"Oh," she exclaimed as if a light in her head suddenly turned on. "I have something for all of you." She went over to her saddlebags that were in the hay and pulled out a handful of something.

"What is that?" Lancelot asked incredulously.

"These are the necklaces I said I would make for all of you," Rhyne said excited as she separated them.

"Necklaces?" Bors wondered.

"Yea, you know the ones that Little Brother and I were wearing. Protection necklaces." They stood there, staring again. Rhyne rolled her eyes. "Well, if you want them, would you be so kind as to stand in a circle."

"Why a circle?" Lancelot asked, meekly walking forward with the other knights.

"Because it is the symbol of your equality. The symbol of your brotherhood. The symbol of everything you stand for, and a powerful one it is. You see, a circle is an endless, eternal knot. Your souls are bound together by a circle for all eternity. The power weaved into your lives is within this circle, and so that is where I will draw the magic for a protection spell. Arthur, Jols, Sparrow. Would you join us please." The three looked at her, unsure whether to step forward. "You are warriors as well."

Finally all were in the circle, Rhyne in the middle. Arthur looked very skeptical, seeing as it was far from his own beliefs. "Each of these are different yet the same, further symbolizing this circle." Rhyne first stood before Sparrow, took a certain necklace from her arm, and brought it over her daughter's head, and brought their foreheads together. "Great Mother, we ask for your protection as we leave on this final quest. Guide our hands to bring justice to those who make suffer the weak. Give us strength that we may fulfill our task to these people, and that our souls may one day find peace. So mote it be."

Rhyne did that same to each around the circle, until she lastly came to Arthur. He conscientiously took the necklace around his neck, and then brought his forehead to Rhyne's. "To those that we worship, and those that we pray, grant us protection over our loved ones as we make one last journey into the darkness that surrounds us. Guide our swords with the hand of justice and one day this land, and our souls may one day find peace." Arthur gave a grateful smile to Rhyne, and she just nodded.

She walked to the center of the circle and put her own necklace around her head, then crossed her arms above her heart and began to speak. "In the circle that we stand holds everything our souls represent. Bind them that we may eternally walk this world as family, and that none before you, will walk alone, but always together, even in death. So mote it be." The circle broke silently as all went back to their own tasks. Rhyne received word from no one, but she didn't need to, they were all grateful, and she knew it. But they were her family, the one people she truly cared about, they should always expect she loved them this much.

Rhyne continued to put necklaces around Zyfer and Hawk's necks, and ask for protection. They were a different circle, so there was need to do their separately. As she began to give Zyfer a quick rub down, the Bishop entered the side door of the stables, followed by his servant, and two Roman guards. Rhyne buckled the belt that held her two daggers around her waist, and made sure her swords were in reach, and continued her task.

She noticed the other knights were doing the same, making sure weapons were in hand. The Bishop ignored the movements of the knights. "To represent the Holy Court, my secretary Horton…Horton," and the scrawny servant scurried to his side, "will accompany you, on your quest."

Gawain slammed his hatchet into the wood of the bleachers in frustration, which made both the Bishop and Horton jump. The Romans flinched and took their hilts in the hands, ready for anything. The Sarmatians were never predictable. Arthur looked passively to the Bishop, never blinking. "Jols, find him a horse," he said the trusty squire. He immediately waved Horton over and the servant quickly followed. Arthur said nothing else to the Bishop, but turned away and ignored him. The knights went on with their business.

Rhyne began to saddle Zyfer, who now became anxious knowing the mission was close. The Bishop looked curiously around, staring at each knight in turn. Rhyne saw his gaze rest on Sparrow, and he left it there. Her back was turned from him as she stood close to Lancelot, talking to him softly. Rhyne kept her eyes on the Bishop as a wicked smirk crept on his face. Rhyne's blood began to boil. Finally, the Bishop moved away from Sparrow. He walked now, and was passing Zyfer's stall as Rhyne gave a low series of whistles, and the great black horse reared into the air, making the Bishop run into hiding in the next stall, which stood empty.

Rhyne jumped over the wall that separated the stalls and landed next to the crouched Bishop, which made him jump in fright a second time. "I'm sorry my lord," she said with a smile. "He is quite anxious." He nodded with as much bravery as he could muster, and began to rise, but quickly found a blade at his neck and a strong hand bunched on his robes to bring him closer to Rhyne. "If you so much as look at her again, I will throw your body on hot embers, and wait until it burns you to death. Do I make myself clear?" her tone was the low and menacing snarl of a tiger. He wouldn't dare defy her at this moment. He nodded his head frantically with his eyes shut tight. "Good. And do not think, Bishop Germanus, that I have forgotten your face." His eyes widened in fear. "Know this, one day I will look down upon your corpse and smile." And then she jumped back over the wall into Zyfer's stall.

One of the Roman guards rushed in the stall and helped him to his feet. The knights finished their preparations and began to say their goodbyes, those who had family. Bors hugged and kissed each of his brood, and shared a few words with Vanora before ending it with a passionate kiss. Gawain the same to Jamari, which had become an official attachment. Jarrah kissed Gawain on the cheek, before moving in front of Galahad. Rhyne stopped checking her weapons to see the interaction. They said nothing for a moment before Jarrah just quickly pecked Galahad on the cheek and began briskly walking out of the stables. Rhyne shook her head as she and the knight watched her retreating figure into the sun. "Galahad," Rhyne called when Jarrah was out of ear shot.

"What do you want, Rhyne?" he said with anger floating on his voice.

"What are you doing?" she put simply.

And he turned to face her. "What are you talking about?"

"Shouldn't you be chasing after her?"

"Why? She walked away from me," he said coolly.

Rhyne shook her head. _Men…they never get it_. "She cares for you, Galahad. She thinks you have none for her."

"But I do!"

"Then I think you had better go tell her that." Rhyne's tone was sweet and simple. Galahad turned to her still retreating figure and bit his lip in nervousness before running out the stables doors after her. In the distance all the knights saw Jarrah turn as he called out her name. She stood stone, looking at his running figure. Galahad picked her feet off the ground and threw her into a deep kiss. Cheers erupted from the knights for the young pup, which is what the knights so gratefully called their youngest.

Rhyne walked over to Sparrow and embraced her only child. "Be safe, mother. Go in the hands of the Goddess."

Rhyne kissed her temple. "I will. Be watchful Sparrow. We don't know for sure how many Saxons there are. Of the fort is attacked, you know how to contact me." The young girl nodded and made her way over to Tristan.

They embraced in a tight hug. "Come back to me. I do not want to lose a new family."

"I will come back to you, and so will she," and he kissed her temple.

"Farewell, father," as she hugged him again.

It was the first time in his life he had been called that. His heart leapt at the word. Something he never thought he would have, a family of his own. "Farewell, daughter," and a single tear rolled down his cheek. He wiped it before she pulled away, and walked back to Lancelot. "It is as it should be," Rhyne whispered to herself, watching the interaction between her daughter and her love.

Rhyne watched her daughter whisper with her lover and continue to share a long deep kiss. Rhyne looked over to Tristan who had his head down as he absentmindedly stroked the neck of his dapple grey. "Are you okay, Tris?" she asked when she was over to him.

She heard a few sniffles before he spoke. "Yes. I'm fine." He wiped his face quickly of something she could not see and finished strapping on his weapons.

Rhyne was going to say something else before a little girl came running into view and fiercely hugged Tristan's leg. "Tithtan! Tithtan!" The great knight looked down and a soft smile appeared on his face.

He bent down and came eye level with her. "Hello Eight."

_Apparently one of Bors' brood,_ Rhyne thought.

"Tithtan, are you coming back?"

"Yes, little one. I am," he said softly. She smiled and threw her arms around his neck. Rhyne crocked an eyebrow as he returned the hug. She ran back to her mother after kissing him on the cheek. Tristan saw Rhyne's look. "We are secret friends."

"Oh?"

"I play with her often," and Rhyne tilted her head. "I think she is the only one of Bors children that is not frightened of me."

Rhyne laughed. "That is probably true," and they both mounted their horses.

"God go with you, as you fulfill your duty to Rome," the Bishop said as all the knights lined their horses behind Arthur.

"My duty is also to my men."

"Then get them home," the Bishop replied as if it would be a simple task.

Rhyne smiled. _Maybe that is what I will do. Send him unarmed into the North. Let the Woads do with him what they want. Though it would probably be a week before he finds anyone. By then he would be starving and most likely thirsty_. She smiled again. If only she could watch at the same time.

Arthur charged out of the stables, and the knights followed. Rhyne stopped next to the Bishop. "Remember my words, Bishop," and she galloped off. Sparrow waved to the knights as they passed. Lancelot fervently returned her wave making Rhyne laugh behind him. _He is such a kid_. The gates of the North were opened in front of them and the knights last mission had begun, as had Rhyne's mission to save them.

**I just could not resist to put that line from Troy in there. It fit perfectly. **


	23. Stories and Legends

Justice Will Rhyne

Chapter Twenty-Three- Stories and Legends

As the knights passed the Sarmatian cemetery on Badon Hill they bowed their heads in grief and respect for their fallen companions and others fallen from generations before. Rhyne easily found the grave of her father. "I miss you, father," she whispered to herself. "It is here I shall be tested," and then she looked away, ahead, at where her task lie.

Rhyne ride behind Arthur, beside Lancelot and Tristan. Rhyne glanced behind and saw Horton thoroughly interested in the cemetery to their right. "What is this place?" he asked curiously looking over the hundreds of graves that held a sword as the head stone.

"It is called Badon Hill," Rhyne answered still facing forward. "It is the resting place of all Sarmatian knights who have died in Britain." When she finished Rhyne finally looked back and saw Horton looking at the knights around him. All gazed over to the gloomy cemetery, wondering when their time would be up, and if it would be this mission they meet their doom and join those fallen before them. When would it be their turn to graze in the green pastures of their far away homeland? Would they join the mass of forgotten warriors?

The thunder rumbled and lightning flashed ahead in the distance, following their path. Hawk howled in answer to the cracks in the sky. Their was a loud booming thunder that shook the ground, followed by flashes of light that struck the ground. Rhyne smiled down on her companion. "She is answering you, Little Brother." Lancelot trotted up next to Arthur. Rhyne could feel the tension between them without even seeing their faces. It is not everyday they had an argument like they did last night. They were friends before they were ever soldiers, and with word of another mission, all the knights began to feel like soldiers, than friends. But their loyalty would never falter.

"Out with it," Rhyne heard Arthur say, breaking the silence.

Lancelot never looked over to him, but continued to look straight ahead. "You know where I stand." Arthur glanced at him with a masked face and Lancelot continued. "It will not affect my loyalty."

Rhyne smiled. Not even through Hell and high water would Lancelot's loyalties change. "What are the chances of encountering more blue men," Horton asked more to himself than anyone else.

"Are you a wagering man?" Galahad asked.

Horton hesitated. Wondering if anything said here would be carried elsewhere. "On occasion," he said finally.

Rhyne laughed out loud. "Never would have thought a mere servant would betray the teachings of his God," she mused. "Though, those are his teachings, are they not?" as she further giggled to herself.

Horton did not answer, but paid attention to Galahad. "Bet all you own; all you can steal."

Bors smiled, and decided to have a little fun amidst all the chaos. "In the North, in those mountains, trees speak. Beasts converse with men. Mountains become monsters at night, and the dead walk."

It apparently worked for Horton dew shivers all over his body. "Yes," Rhyne decided to play along. "Hawk here," she pointed down to the wolf. "He is one of those beasts Bors speaks of." Horton looked down at the wolf cautiously. "I lived in the North for a time. I was hunting in the woods and he came running along and saved my life from a bear. He has been at my heels ever since. We have conversations daily. Best friends, aren't we Little Brother." The wolf began to mumble some things in his throat which further terrified Horton.

"Your swords seem to do well enough," he said with as much strength as could muster.

Jols joined in the game. "That is because Arthur's sword has powerful pagan magic. Excalibur," Jols said in awe. "He pulled it from a stone."

"A stone?" Horton stared at him in astonishment.

"Centuries ago it was stabbed into a rock by the High Priestess of Avalon. It was the sword of one of Arthur's great ancestors, and powerful and mighty king," Rhyne added.

"A Priestess?" he whispered to himself.

"Yes a Priestess from the hidden Isle of Glass where magic of the Goddess was born," said with a mystical wonder.

"Many tried to pull the sword," Jols continued, "but each great warrior who tried was struck dead immediately," he said dramatically. Horton's mouth dropped. "When Arthur pulled it free," Jols said, happy tp have a gullible listener, "fire and lightning were flung all around."

As the knights listened, they held in their laughter with all their might, so Horton would not see their ridicule. Rhyne decided to carry it further. "As Arthur swings it in battle, you can hear its song. And a beautiful one it is. Only one is meant to use Excalibur. Any other who tries will never be able to lift its weight." Horton's eyes widened. "And when Arthur falls, the sword must be thrown into the lake which the Isle of Avalon resides so the Goddess can take it back. Only until the Once and Future King is born again on this earth, will Excalibur's song be heard." Rhyne finished with her arms outspread as she looked up into the clouds.

Horton eyed the sword sheathed on Arthur's saddle. "That is extremely powerful magic you speak of."

"This is the birth place of the Goddess." Rhyne explained humbly. What she would say here would no longer be a game. "Everything you see, touch, smell or feel has magic in it. The very air you breathe holds the magic of this island. Look around you, that is the Goddess' face. Listen, that is her voice. She is all around you, and nothing will change that, even if all those who worship her die. This is her one true home, and here she will always live."

"You defend her. Why?" he asked.

"Because I am sworn to her." Rhyne showed him the tattooed pentacle on her wrist. He crossed himself hastily. "Do not pray for me little man. She has given me something that no one else could, and for that I give my soul to her."

He did not ask any more questions, but continued, even as they galloped out the gate into the North, to cross his chest and pray to himself softly.

They rode through the day, only stopping to let the horses rest, and they continued. As much as the knights should be tired, they weren't. Adrenaline pumped through their veins as they were still riding the anger that grew last night, and were happy to run it out of their system. Considering the pace, the horses were doing well, seeming to sense the hastiness needed for this mission, but they also loved running free. They did after all, used to be knights.

They continued at a fast gallop all day, resting only when need be, then off again, all through the first day and first night. They dare not stop, wanting their visit North be revealed. Lucky, they had no such unwelcome visitors as of yet. Horton suffered every step of the way, begging to ret every few moments. He moaned with every hop he made in the saddle.

By the closing of the second day they came to the wall of a thick forest. They slowly made their way to the impenetrable entrance before them, searching for the enemy, and found none. "I know this forest. There is a trail that runs through it. It is narrow, but it is the only safe way," Rhyne declared as they stopped in a line.

"I know the one you speak of," Tristan nodded his head in agreement. "You have traveled this forest before?" he looked to her.

Rhyne smiled. "Do you think I stayed in one spot for fourteen years. Of course not. I traveled as far North as the Isles of Orkney."

"You are fearless than of the tribes," Arthur said. "I am surprised you lived on a trip such as that one."

Rhyne was about to reply but was interrupted by Tristan. "There it is!" he said pointing off to their right.

Arthur looked to the thin darkened trail grimly. "Tristan. Rhyne. You lead the way." They trotted their horses forward and plunged into the wilds of the forest.

They led the way slowly, being careful not to make their horses stumble. Rhyne saw the shudders of all the knights as they went on. Most had a hand on a weapon, ready for anything. Rhyne smirked when she saw Horton holding his eyes shut as hard as possible, trusting his steed to guide him. The knights were too busy to noticed the comfort and happiness that was radiating off of Rhyne's face, not even Tristan. He was too busy watching for the enemy. Rhyne knew they were close ahead, but none were watching them now. They were not yet far enough in.

The forest around them almost had eyes, watching as they went deeper into the heart of darkness, at least that is what the knights believed it to be. Rhyne saw it as a home, since this is where she had lived with Merlin. The forest did not seem threatening to her, but welcomed her back into its grasp. Though dark, it was beautiful and alive.

Arthur and Lancelot were riding almost side-by-side. "This would be a perfect place for an ambush," their leader said.

"I hope so," Lancelot said quite nonchalantly. "I am terribly bored already, and we are not even there yet."

Bors snorted. "When they jump us, you can have my share." There were a couple chuckles within the group, but no replies. As the sun kept setting under the horizon, the darker the shadow of the forest crept near them. All knights now had a weapon in their hand, except for Rhyne, which Arthur thought very odd. And then he noticed the half smile and happiness in her face, but shrugged it off quickly, thinking nothing of it.

Rhyne noticed the moon grew brighter as the sky darkened, but the clouds were slowly creeping closer to the white orb, and soon would cover it. The trail took a sharp turn and suddenly widened. Rhyne and Tristan stopped noticing an old hunched over man leaning on his walking stick, a cloak covering his body, traipsing toward them ever so slowly. The other knights gathered round them and peered in confusion to the old man who had yet to notice them. Rhyne smiled inwardly, knowing who it is. She had felt his presence near for some time now.

"It is only a harmless old beggar," Bors stated in relief. All the knights sighed, except Arthur and Horton.

"Harmless he may be, but this is a strange place for him to be walking," Arthur thought out loud." He looked to Lancelot. "We had better meet him."

"Hey, old bear!" Galahad called. The man looked up, threw back his hood, and saw the knights for the first time. "Seen any Woads?"

His smile showed black teeth. He shook his head. "No sir, I have not. Not a one."

Arthur was still suspicious. "Where are they? The Woads? Surely they are here." The man was now only twenty yards from them. He just shrugged. "Where are they?" Arthur said firmly, holding up Excalibur.

The old man looked Arthur in the eyes, not showing any recognition of the swords presence. He held a very wide grin and began to laugh heartily. _Nice touch_, Rhyne thought to herself. "Everywhere," he held up his arms to the trees around him. "Everywhere!" he laughed even louder as it echoed through the dense forest. The old man turned their back to him, and walked back the direction he came from.

All the knights got a chill up their spine. That laugh was no where near friendly, but rather…sinister. Their horses stomped impatiently, except for Zyfer who stood completely still. Hawk howled into the air. Rhyne knew he was greeting their old friend. Rhyne looked back to the road. When the beggar was almost out of sight he turned again to the knights, throwing away his cloak and standing taller. He was no longer an old beggar to the knights, but the leader of the Woads. Merlin stood defiantly, smiling back at them. All the knights looked at one another, but when turned back to the rode, he was gone, with a breeze left in his wake. "Weapons out at all times." Arthur commanded. "Be ready for anything."

They continued forward, but now Arthur decided to lead, with Lancelot still beside him. Tristan and Rhyne dropped to the end of the line. Then the sky cracked, and rain began to pour down. Rhyne wrapped her cloak tighter around her, saving her thicker one packed in her bags for the nights.

They rode on silently, keeping their eyes on the trees. The only sound heard was the clapping and sloshing of hoofs in the mud. The rain refused to stop, drenching them to the bone. They came to a clearing, watching the trees ahead. Arthur noticed the awkward movements the branches were making, thinking at first is was the wind, but then realized it was not. All the knights stared grimly ahead, swearing to themselves having to enter those very trees. Rhyne smiled inwardly once more, having remembered many times when she was walking within the heights of the tree, pulling on vines here and there to make the enemy hesitant of entering, and on edge of his entire surroundings. "The trees," Arthur whispered, not taking his eyes from them.

"Yes, they are walking," Rhyne said most seriously. This struck Horton with a sudden shock of terror, recalling the discussion as they left the wall. The knights grinned, considering they well knew who was in the trees, hidden beyond their sight. But Rhyne saw them. She felt them moving. A large band of fifty or so of those she has fought beside at one time or another.

The knights entered the trees once more with caution. Invisible, the Woads stayed parallel with them as they moved onward. The trees were still moving awkwardly. "Woads," she heard Tristan whisper to Arthur.

"Where?"

"Everywhere." And then the silence was broken. Arrows with long lines of thorned vine tied to them whizzed through the air, thumping into the trees in front of Arthur, blocking his path. Their horses spooked and they immediately rode the other direction. But the massing of Woads kept growing, and the dead ends kept coming, until they were forced bacl into the forest clearing, where the natives easily surrounded them.

Meanwhile, a few miles to the east, Merlin greeted one of his scouts who stabbed a dagger into the ground at his feet.

"Saxon," the scout reported, breathing deeply from his long ride.

"How many?" one of the Eldars asked sitting around the fire.

"Thousands," The scout replied again.

Merlin looked to him, his eyes widened. All the Elders were silent, waiting for what Merlin would say, how he would guide them. The great shaman looked into the direction Arthur and his knights were trying to escape the Woads. "It is time." Merlin turned sharply to a man standing behind him. "Call of the attack." The man bowed and ran off to complete his orders. The Elders looked at the shaman with shocked faces, but said nothing.

Rhyne unsheathed the sword at her back, facing the woads, with Hawk down at her side, baring his teeth. Then a horn was blown in the distance. She instantly relaxed, knowing the order. It blew again, and slowly the Woads backed away from them and disappeared once more into the trees. She had been wondering if Merlin was going to let them clash swords. He was right on time. No more need to be hurt. The battle is coming soon.

Rhyne came from her trance as she heard Dagonet yell after his enemy. "Inish! Devil Ghosts!" They were ghosts because they would rarely be seen, unless they wanted to be.

"Why do they not attack?" Galahad asked no one in particular.

"Merlin doesn't want us dead." Arthur said coolly. "Let's move," he finally said after a few moments making sure the Woads had really retreated.

Arthur dismounted his horse, cut the vines in the direction they needed to head, and then they were off again, getting enough room between them and the Woads so they could have a safe camp. Rhyne could have told them they wouldn't come, that she could feel them whenever near, and knew no one was, and no one would be. But they would ask questions, and now was not the time.

And so they set a fire and roasted the four rabbits that Hawk caught for them. The wolf lay next to Rhyne as the 'Little Witch', a name Bors came to call her, read her book, sitting beside or against Tristan, both eating their share of meat.

"What are you reading this time, Rhyne?" Gawain called across the fire.

"Do any of you know Marcus Aurelius?" A few of the knights shook their heads, but Dagonet spoke.

"An Emperor. The last of the Caesars," he said simply.

"Correct Dag. Arthur?" she wondered if he knew anything further.

"One of the last pagan Emperors. Was good friends with his general Maximus. He wrote down his philosophies in a book he called _Meditations_."

"Very good." Rhyne smiled to her brother. Arthur grimly smiled back.

"Maximus. I remember hearing stories of him," Lancelot said with a full mouth.

"A great General," Bors continued.

"He killed that bloke…what was his name?" Gawain closed his eyes to think, but came up short. He looked to Galahad.

"Don't look at me! I don't know Roman history!" the young knight spat. Rhyne noticed Arthur grimace in the corner of her eye.

"Commodus," Tristan spoke clearly.

"Aurelius's son," a sqeak of a voice came from the outside of the circle. All looked to see Horton leaning against a tree facing the fire. "He was the son of Marcus Aurelius. The only son."

The knights just stared at him a moment, surprised he had joined in. "Right," Gawain pointed. "Commodus." They were all silent for a moment, not knowing what happened next.

Rhyne was reading her book again, ignoring the knights curiosity. She lay back on Tristan's chest, while head set his cheek on the side of her head and looked at the pages with her. They got tired of waiting. "Rhyne," Bors bellowed quizzically. She looked over the top of her pages. "Are you going to tell us what happened?"

She smiled. "I didn't know you wished to, but if you insist." She took a deep breath, put down her book and began. "Caesar was so close to bringing Rome back her true face from when the first Caesar ruled. His dearest friend, Maximus, who was a like son to him, led Rome's main Legions. Maximus was one of the best men he knew, and the general never realized how good a man he was, always denied it said there was better. He never thrived for power, only accepted his duty to lead others and keep them safe from harm as much as possible. For that he hated leading, but someone had to do it. And he made sure it was always done with the best of his ability. This is why Caesar would name Maximus as his successor, and not his arrogant and unmoral son, Commodus.

"At first Maximus did not want the responsibility, but he would not refuse the request from his Emperor and friend. But before he could give him his decision, Commodus was told he would not be Emperor, and killed his father. And since no one else knew of his requests, Commodus became Caesar, after his father. Maximus would not take the allegiance of Commodus, he gave an order to kill him and the rest of his family. But Maximus escaped his captors, and galloped home as fast as possible. But it was too late. His wife, and his younger son were both crucified and burned alive." The knights, Arthur and Horton were listening with extreme interest. They grimaced and cursed as she told of the murder of his family. She could of sworn the forest was dead silent as well, trying to hear her story.

"It was then that he collapsed from the wounds he received during his escape, underneath the burnt hanging bodies of his family." She paused for the affect of grief to set in. All held somber faces, and she continued. "Then, a caravan came along, and took him. They went to Africa, in a Roman Province, where a man bought Maximus, and other men as slaves. This man called Proximo, a former Gladiator of the Colesseum. He turned these men into gladiators and trekked to Rome. It was their first performance in the arena in which he was discovered alive, and where he claimed his revenge.

"Weeks and weeks went by. Maximus won every match he entered, even those that Commodus rigged for him to lose. He was too great a warrior. Then finally, Lucille, Commodus' older sister went and saw Maximus along with a Senator that was loyal to the Republic and Marcus Aurelius. They planned Maximus' escape and the marching of his army into the city of Rome, where he would kill Commodus, name the Senate as the ruler of Rome, then leave the city forever. They planned it. But when it came to the night it should be carried out, Commodus held hostage the son of Lucille, the hier to the throne, demanding what was being planned against him." Some of the knights gasped. "She had no choice but to give him the information. The Senator was arrested and Maximus was captured during his escape." More gasps.

Rhyne smiled at the faces of the knights. They were so enthralled with a Roman story. "And so, Commodus decided it had to end. He would give Maximus his chance for revenge, but not a fair chance. Just before their match in the sands of the Colesseum, Commodus stabbed him shallowly in the ribs and had his armor strapped on, so he would slowly bleed out." The knights grumbled about the cowardice of the Emperor. "So they fought before the Mob in the arena. Maximus was too great a warrior to lose his only chance for revenge. The crowd was silent as they watched Maximus give the killing blow." The knights cheered for his victory. "Lucille was made ruler for a short time as the Senate got their footing, then she stepped down. Maximus was carried out of the Colesseum as a hero, while Commodus was left in the dirt, never given a proper burial as an Emperor."

When Rhyne finished, there was a long silence. Each man thought of the evil and cowardice of Commodus, but the bravery and honor of Marcus Aurelius and Maximus. Rome was not all bad. There was a time when it was the Light they all talk about. Every civilization will have it's problems, but there was a time when Rome was just. But it was not now. There are great Romans, but now Rome itself was not great, but greedy.

"How do you know so much?" Horton asked, surprised by the accuracy of her story, for living in Britain.

"The Shaman that I lived with was also a great storyteller. I would hear a new story almost each day. But father and mother told many stories to me as well, but mostly of Britain and Sarmatia. The Shaman told me stories and songs of the world," Rhyne explained warmly.

"He is a good man, this Shaman?" Arthur spoke.

"One of the best I know, besides all of you and my parents."

They were silent for a long while, busying themselves with their food and preparations for the night. Horton was gathering pine needles as a bed. He lay down with a long sigh facing the fire. The horse he rode stood nearby, and it seemed to Rhyne stepped on a stick with a crack. Horton shot his eyes open and whirled around to the dark woods. He looked around for sign of anything, but saw nothing. He turned back towards the fire and the horse crunched a rotten log. Horton whirled around again, his entire body shaking. Rhyne shook her head with a chuckle and turned to Bors as he started to speak. Once again about Vanora and the children.

"She wants to get married Dag," he spoke desperately. "She wants to name the children."

Dagonet listened intently but said nothing. "They already have names don't they?" Tristan asked.

Bors shook his head. "Only Gilly. Too many other names to remember, so numbers was easier," he said casually as if no big deal.

"Bors! You have to give them names." Rhyne spoke as if insulted. "What will they do when getting married? You're not that old yet as to have a bad memory." The knights sniggered.

"Women," Tristan said under his breath.

Rhyne elbowed him in the ribs. "Our children had better have names, and you had better marry me at least after the first one," she demanded. The knights laughed, but Tristan only stared at the stars.

_Married_, he thought. _Children. I had forgotten. _He never believed he would get the chance to marry anyone, not to mention Rhyne. But fate drew him the right card and she walked back into his life. He had always loved watching children, but never knew how to interact with one, until Eight came along and wanted to play with him. For a few years now they play and talk often, when no one else is around. In the stables or the gardens. He smiled at the thought of the little girl. Then at the thought of Sparrow, who was now his daughter. _Daughter_. He had a family now, and he wanted more of it. Yes. He would marry Rhyne. He would want more children, and he will spoil them to no end. _His children. His children…_

All were now readying themselves for sleep. They were all getting into comfortable positions on their bedrolls or against a tree or rock. "I'll take first watch," Dagonet said, and all nodded as he added another log to the fire. Rhyne lay her head in Tristan's lap and he stroked her hair. "I love you," Rhyne whispered.

"And I you," Tristan returned.

She smiled. Rhyne looked over the fire and saw Bors laying flat on his back aiming his crossbow to the moon. He fired the arrow after a few moments, and everyone's eyes followed it into the black void, and a silver streaked illuminated across the sky. He beamed at the group having brought down a star with only a single shot.


	24. Plans and Arrivals

_**Disclaimer: same as always…**_

_**Bec: Thanks fro reviewing. **_

_**Knight Maiden: You read the book. I liked lots of the parts that were in the book and not in the movie, so I decided to put them in the chapter. Those were pretty much the ones I wanted to use anyway. The one where Jols is talking to Horton and how they encounter Merlin. I liked how they were done, so I included them. I will use a few lines from where Arthur meets Merlin in the book because it is a very extended scene and there are some great lines, but that would be it. **_

_**LancelotTristanBaby: Thanks for reviewing, and I'm loving your stories…**_

_**Gwenn0: it was in the book…I thought it was great so I included it into my story…Thanks for reviewing. **_

**_Tracy 137: Really? I'm not sure I liked the 22nd chapter. I thought it was one of my worst…but I guess if everyone liked it what I think does not really matter. I added some of those parts from the book. They were not in the movie, so I added them in here. And I didn't plan on putting the Gladiator story in there, but I wanted her to tell a story…so I just picked that one because I had watched the movie recently…I would like to kill the Bishop too…but I think you will more after this chapter and the next…his evilness has only begun. Rhyne is really going to hate him when they get back…I'm glad you like the relationships…those are always the hardest things to write, for me at least…_**

**_Lucillaq: All my main characters in all my stories are women, strong women. I am a huge feminist and that is why I love the ancient times in Britain. Women were so powerful. I have wanted to be an archaeologist since I was 8, when I first watched Indiana Jones…yea, I know it's weird…The last few years I have really been into King Arthur because of a book I read called 'The Mists of Avalon', which I totally recommend to any KA fan. I am in love with the Celtic time period. So that is what I want to specialize in: Britain, or Europe, in the dark ages. Before, during and after the Roman times of Britain…the part where Bors shoots the star is in the book, which is another book I recommend…and I thought the Gladiator story would fit well there…and the truth of Sparrow's father and the rest of Rhyne's life will come out soon…a little bit in this chapter…I had the make Tris dance…there will be more later…_**

**_Vintersong: I liked those parts so much I thought they deserved worthiness because not many people have read the book…so I just added it in. And I know the story of Gladiator is not accurate, but that is the story everyone knows, and if I put in the true story I don't think people would have enjoyed it as much…of anyone in the world I know how annoying it is for people to not understand the real truth because I truly love history…I am going to be a historian so I understand where you come from…but like I said…not many other people know the real story…so I put the movie one in instead…and I'm glad you are on the edge of your seat…_**

_**Red Othello: Tris is my fav, and seems to be everyone else's b/c most of the stories are all about him, or Lance and Dag…but…is it because they are handsome/sexy or is it because they feel sorry for them because they die…ah well…**_

_**Music nimf: me too actually…many of the authors in this section do have very good original female characters…there are many good authors as well…that is why I love this site. I'm glad you like the relationships between my characters and the knights. I think that is always the hardest thing to write: good relationships…**_

_**Okay…hope you like this chapter…I would have had it up sooner, but when I was almost done…I lost it and had to start over again…hope you like it…**_

Justice Will Rhyne

Chapter Twenty-Four- Plans and Arrivals

Sparrow woke with the sunrise. She inhaled the morning breeze deeply. She opened her eyes and realized she was hugging the second pillow on the bed tightly. It smelled of Lancelot and she smiled. Another cool breeze reached her face and Sparrow closed her eyes again. She stood from the bed, wrapping a fur around her and walked to the window.

This is the third day they would be gone, and should be arriving at the estate by midday, then back in three more days' time. It was half way over. "Help them find a safe way home, Great Mother. I fear life is inside me, and I must not lose him, any of them." She touched her belly and swore she could feel life. She would have to go to the healers soon and make sure. Or hopefully Merlin would be here and he could check. She smiled at the notion of being pregnant, but also feared it. It is said to be terribly painful. More than anything any man or warrior would ever endure. But she also feared Lancelot's reaction. Would he be happy? Yes, she knows he loves her and would marry her one day, but does he want to be a father? Sparrow hoped beyond all hope that he would be.

Reluctant in leaving the beautiful scenery she dressed in a simple yellow gown for the day and made her way to the tavern. Sparrow was greeted by the voices of eleven children that ran over to her. She crouched to their levels and hugged them all, and kissed the infant which lay in the cradle. "Hello eleven," she cooed. The baby smiled. _I can't wait_. She walked in the back behind the bar and greeted Vanora in the kitchens who was getting together some plates of food of the few customers they had already sitting at the bar. "Oh, I'm starving!" Sparrow exclaimed at the hot rolls and warm soup. She poured herself a bowl, dipped in a piece of bread and took an enormous bite. "Are there any eggs?" she lifted her head around looking at the cooks.

Vanora chuckled. "You sure are hungry lately. Trying to think of anything but your knight?" she asked with a raised brow.

Sparrow smiled. "Oh, there is nothing that will get him off my mind," as she took another enormous bite. She walked over to one of the cooks and stole a few cooked eggs, grabbed a fork and began devouring them down as well.

Vanora laughed out loud as she handed her a cup of milk and Sparrow nodded appreciatively before taking a gulp. "Have you ever been this hungry or had the cravings for this much food before?" the older woman now asked thoroughly interested. Sparrow looked up at the ceiling thinking a moment, then shook her head. A huge smile slowly crept onto her face

Sparrow eyed her. "What?" Vanora just kept staring. "What are you staring at woman!"

Vanora whispered in her ear. "Do you think a woman who gave birth to eleven children would not know when another is pregnant or not?"

Sparrow froze. "Do you really think so?"

"Eating all the time and always hungry. Eating things you never had the craving for before. Symptoms of pregnancy," she whispered with merriment. "I am happy for you. This is fantastic."

"Really?"

"Of course. Dear Lancelot is going to have a heart attack!" she exclaimed.

Sparrow showed a worried face. "Think so?" She did not want that.

"Don't worry dear. He will have a heart attack then, laugh fiercely twirling you in a circle and will kiss you like he never has before. And hopefully ask you to marry him," she said the last part with a little bitterness.

"I'm guessing Bors did all that except for the last thing," Sparrow smiled as Vanora walked out of the kitchens ranting and raving about her lover that will never marry her. Sparrow just smiled, continuing to eat and went back out into the tavern helping her dear friend watch over the children. What she did not realize was one of the men sitting at the bar was there to watch her, under order of the Bishop. He had plans for her. Big plans…

Rhyne and Tristan awoke before sunrise and went scouting, while everyone still slept. This area was all too familiar for her. It was trail she was on when she was brought here with the Bishop. Memories she had not thought of for fourteen years came rushing back. They topped a small hill and the estate lay out before them. Tristan sighed. "Finally." He looked over at Rhyne. Her mind looked distracted. "Rhyne," he said softly. "Are you okay?"

Her head snapped over to him and gave a small smile. "Yes, I'm fine." She took a deep breath. "Come on, we should be able to get here in a few hours." When they arrived back at camp everyone was awake and getting ready to move. They began within an hour and continued their journey north.

As Rhyne said, they did arrive at the camp in a few hours. They topped the hill and all the knights sighed in relief. "So this is it?" Lancelot asked.

Arthur nodded. "The estate of Marius Honorius and his family. Those we were sent to rescue."

Rhyne snorted. "They had better appreciate it."

Tristan caught up with them to see if they were being followed and pushed up next to Arthur. "No Woads," he said simply.

"Must be worried about Saxons," Bors commented.

"So are we," Dagonet added. Arthur kicked forward his horse without another word and led the way down to the estate. There were men and women with ragged and torn clothes working in the fields outside the walls of the manor. They rode past many small huts revealing more people.

As they came before the gates they slammed shut and a mercenary called from the top of the wall. "Who are you?"

"I am Arthur Castus, Commander of the Sarmatian Knights sent by Bishop Germanus of Rome. Open the gate!" Arthur demanded.

The doors swung open and a short round man came wobbling out in a white toga. Marius. Rhyne's blood boiled. "It is a wonder you have come. Good Jesus! Arthur and his knights!" He reached out to pat Galahad's horse, but the stallion whipped his head away from foreign hands. Marius continued. "You have fought the Woads, vile creatures!"

"Our orders are too evacuate you immediately," Arthur stated.

"That's impossible," Marius eyed Arthur. A crowd of people gathered and Marius screamed. "Get back to work!" The mercenaries followed suit pushing and kicking people away from the situation. One of them were about to kick a young girl. Rhyne moved Zyfer in between them. The man looked up at her and she shook her head. He backed away. Rhyne turned her head to look for the girl who staring up at her wide-eyed. Rhyne smiled and nodded her head before going back to the knights and pushing her way through next to Arthur.

"Everything we have is here given to us by the Pope of Rome," Marius said.

"Well you're about to give it the Saxons," Lancelot barked.

"Saxons?" Alecto questioned.

"They're invading from the north," said Arthur.

"Then Rome will send an army!" Marius protested.

"They have. Us." Rhyne smiled.

Marius eyes widened when he saw she was a woman. "A woman?" he asked disgusted.

"A knight," Arthur corrected. "We leave as soon as you're packed."

Marius looked back to Arthur. "I refuse to leave."

Arthur had enough. He dismounted, and approached Marius standing with in inches of his face. "If I do not bring you and your son back my men can never leave this land. So are coming with me, if I have to tie you in back of my horse and drag you all the way back to Hadrian's Wall myself…my Lord," he said dangerously, mocking the landowner in the end. "Lady my knights are hungry." Arthur nodded from Fulcinia.

Rhyne looked over to the dungeon door. She could feel the hate and anguish from where she sat on top of Zyfer. She closed her eyes to stop the memories from surfacing, but they came anyway. Conner, smiling. Then, in pain. She opened her eyes and took a quick breath. Tristan was in front of her. "Love, are you okay?" he took her hand in his.

The warmth of his skin calmed her breathing. "I'm fine."

"You do not look fine."

"I am as good as can be expected," she tried to assure. But she knew he was not convinced.

"Arthur has sent me to scout. See where the Saxons are. Will you be okay?"

Rhyne gave him a sideways look. "I lasted fourteen years without you, I think I can handle a few more hours," she snapped. It came out harsher than she wanted. She closed her eyes. "Tristan…" but before she could say anything else she felt a peck on her cheek and, hooves galloping away from her. Tristan left. Rhyne cursed herself as she looked after him. "Be safe…" Arthur caught her eye. He was walking towards where an old man's hands were tied above his head. There were slash marks all over his body.

Rhyne dismounted and followed him. She stopped next to Lancelot; Hawk came up and sat next to her. "What is he doing now?" Lancelot asked annoyed. Rhyne did not answer as Bors walked up from behind them and stood on Lancelot's other side.

"Being Arthur." Everyone knew what he meant by that. Arthur always let his heart get in the way, especially when the poor were in need. Merlin had always told her the stories, how he never let an innocent suffer when he could stop it.

"Who is this man?" Arthur motioned to the tied man with Excalibur. No one answered. "Answer me!" he turned to the crowd that gathered.

"He is our village elder," a young man said.

"What is this punishment for?" Arthur demanded.

"He defied our master Marius."

Arthur just stared at him, waiting for more. "You are from Rome. Is it true that Marius is a spokesman from God and that it is a sin to defy him?" the man demanded.

_So, the lord has not changed_, Rhyne thought. _Then he will get it back three fold instead of two. _

"I'll tell you now." Arthur spun Excalibur to point it to the crowd. They cowered back a few steps. "Marius is not of God. And you, all of you were free from your first breath!" He looked back to the tied man, swung Excalibur and freed him of his chains. "Help this man." No one moved. "Help him!" Two women went forward and helped him to his feet, taking him to heal. "Now here me!" Arthur continued. "A vast and terrible army is moving this way. They will destroy everything and spare no one. Those of you who are able should pack up and begin moving south, towards Hadrian's Wall. Those of you unable shall come with us." Lancelot snorted. "You," Arthur grabbed the young man's shoulder, "serve me now. Get this people ready." And he walked away, back towards his horse.

Rhyne smiled. "What does he think he's doing!" Lancelot motioned to their heartfelt leader.

"Becoming who he is born to be," Rhyne answered. Lancelot and Bors looked at her smirking satisfied face, and decided against asking her what she meant.

Servant women came from the manor carrying trays of food for the knights. Rhyne took a bowl of bread and a piece of bread from one of the trays. She was a little older than her daughter. The girl's eyes were caught in awe of Rhyne, and the older woman smiled while taking a bite of the bread. "How is it that a woman is a knight?"

"I am just a dear friend." Rhyne smiled softer. "My father was a Sarmatian Knight and my mother a British Queen. They both taught me to fight."

The girl smiled wide. "I wish I could have a life like that," she said wistfully.

Rhyne took a long drink of the soup and sighed as it coated her throat. "You can. If you want something bad enough, it will happen."

"How could you believe such a thing?"

"I was once a servant, as you are, and now I fight along the side of Arthur's Knights. My dearest friends." Rhyne threw a roll to Hawk who was sitting next to her. "What is your name?"

"Tarí."

"Well Tarí, sine you are coming to the Wall, after all this is over, I will teach you to fight," Rhyne said.

"Really?" the girl asked slowly.

"I promise on the Goddess," Rhyne swore and crossed her arms about her chest as best she could with food in both hands.

"Shh!" Tarí said hastily. Looking about to see if anyone was listening. "You must not speak of her here. She is forbidden." The wind blew back her black hair from her face, showing a purple bruise traveling down the right side of her face.

Rhyne frowned. "He did that." It was not a question. Tarí replied by averting her eyes to the ground. A large hand that came from Rhyne's left picked up her chin gently. Tarí looked up into the eyes of Dagonet. He tucked loose strands of hair behind her ear. Rhyne felt a spark in between them. _They will be good for each other_. Rhyne smiled.

"I have something that can clear that up." His deep voice spoke gently. "Come with me."

Then her eyes faltered. "I mustn't Sir Knight. I have to help my mistress pack for the journey." She looked back at the ground.

"You are not a servant any longer. And please…call me Dagonet." He took the now empty tray from her hands and dropped it to the ground, then pulled her away, off to his healing pack.

Rhyne chuckled inwardly, set down her half empty bowl and Hawk lapped up the rest of the soup, and went off to help the packing process.

By midday most of all the carts were filled and all the horses on the estate were saddled and ready. Rhyne helped Tarí heave another load of blankets onto one of the carts. She heard hoof beats coming from the woods, turned that direction and saw Tristan immerge from the woods.

Rhyne stepped out of the crowd of the slaves. She and Tristan caught eyes for a moment as he passed her, on his way to Arthur, who was horsed in front of the gates to the manor. Rhyne jogged forward to hear is report, but stopped when she caught sight of the dungeon door. Two mercenaries stood watch while two slaves packed rocks with mortar against the door. _There are people down there._ Instantly, Rhyne drew her sword and made her way over to them. She noticed drums began. _They are coming._

They saw her coming and began to arm themselves, but stopped when noticing what was gathering behind her. All the knights, including Arthur had their swords at the ready. "Move!" Arthur made the mercenaries and slaves move aside. He looked over the rock wall.

"Arthur, we have no time," Lancelot said.

"Do you not hear the drums?" Galahad asked.

"What are you doing?" Marius called over. He was about to intercept the knights when a black stallion and a black wolf stepped in his way. The horse's head tossed and the wolf's teeth were bared. A woman with deep red hair came from behind them, her sword in her hand beside her.

A hard bashing was heard behind her, Dagonet was breaking the wall. Rhyne looked Marius in the eye. He was furious. "How dare you look at me as an equal!" Rhyne smirked. "Who are you!"

"I am hurt," Rhyne said. "That you would not recognize me."

Marius looked confused. "Why would I recognize a woman?"

She stepped closer, and he refused to step back in submission of a woman, thought his eyes showed otherwise. "Because I am the only woman that got away from you," she said in a low growl.

It took only a second for her to see recognition ignite in his eyes. "Rhyne," he said in disbelief.

She nodded. "I promised I would kill you." She paused for a moment. "So here I am." And Rhyne walked away, satisfied with the first meeting. Rhyne went back to the crowd before the dungeon. Arthur and a few others had gone in. They waited. Rhyne knew Tristan was beside her atop of Isolde, but she did not care. There was life down there, she could feel it.

Time went by, when Lancelot came through the door, tossing a torch into the snow grimly, and then Arthur immerged from the darkness of the door carrying a woman in his arms. "Bring some water!" Rhyne rushed forward, grabbing a blanket from one of the villagers and laid it down on the ground as Arthur set the woman down carefully.

As Arthur moved the hair from her face Rhyne gasped. "Gwen." Arthur looked at Rhyne. _They know each other?_

Guinevere caught eyes with her. "Rhyne," she whispered. Rhyne nodded with a smile. "Sister." Guinevere smiled as much as her injuries could allow. Fulcinia knelt beside Rhyne and took Guinevere's hand. Marius appeared before them.

"She is a Woad," Tristan stated.

"As am I," Rhyne looked up at him.

"What is this madness?" Arthur demanded.

"They are all pagans here," Marius motioned with a wave of his hand. "Refused to do the task that God has set for them. They must die, as an example!"

"Do you mean they refuse to be your serfs!" Arthur replied.

"You are a Roman. You understand!" Marius pointed to Arthur. "And you!" he faced his wife. "You keep them alive!" He slapped her and she fell to the ground. Arthur stepped towards him, but was not fast enough. Rhyne punched Marius on his jaw, and he took his turn falling to the ground. Marius looked up and found a sword at his neck. "When we get back to the wall you will be punished for this heresy."

The sword tip put a little more pressure on his skin and he winced. "Perhaps I should kill you now and seal my fate," Arthur sneered.

"I was willing to die with them," a voice came from behind them. The priest. "Yes, to lead them to their rightful place. It is the will of God that these sinners be sacrificed."

"Then I shall grant that wish," Arthur said softly. "Wall them back up."

The knights were stunned at his order. "Arthur-" Tristan began.

"I said wall them up!" Arthur repeated. The villagers were the first to respond, pushing the priest back towards the door. Everyone got back to work. Arthur looked at Marius, who was surrounded by his mercenaries. He eyed them brutally, and said nothing. Nothing needed to be said.

Sparrow walked from the tavern up to the battlements as the sun was setting. She held a hand over her flat belly with a light smile on her face, thinking of what the child will look like, and tried to decide whether she wanted a boy or girl. But then she instantly went grim, closed her eyes and spoke to the Goddess. "Great Mother, war is coming. Please, by all that you have and all that I can give, please protect this child from the evils that are to come. Please, please. I beg this of you…" a few tears slid down her cheeks.

She stood there for a few more moments and then felt a tap on her shoulder. Sparrow turned to see a man she recognized as one of the cooks and gave him a sweet smile. He held up a mug to her. "Vanora asked me to give this to you and order you to rest."

Sparrow snorted with laughter. "Thank you, and assure her I will do as she told." Sparrow took the mug from her hands and looked back to the setting sun, taking a sip.

She drained the last of the tea as the sun disappeared behind the distant mountains. Sparrow smiled at the landscape one last time before turning to the stairs and heading to the room she shared with Lancelot. By the time she was at the stairs up the second floor of the inn, heavy exhaustion had set in, and she stopped a moment to catch her breath and then kept on moving. Must be the effect of being pregnant. She was just down the hall from the door of the room when she began to feel dizzy. Something was wrong. She could feel it. Wait. The drink. Great, Sparrow. Taking a drink from someone you don't know…way to go…you are going to pay for it now…just don't let it hurt the baby…

Sparrow had trouble walking straight so she used the wall to balance herself. She was seeing three of everything. "Please Goddess…let this not be the end of me…or my child…" she whispered so no one who would be following her could hear.

Sparrow finally reached the inside of her room and went straight for one of her swords and gripped it as tight as possible. There were footsteps directly behind her. Sparrow swung her sword and nicked the man's shoulder. He gripped the wound in pain, looked at her, and then slapped her with the back of his hand. Sparrow fell to the ground in a heap and moaned. The sword flew from her hand, and she was now defenseless. "Oh now, now my little poppet. Don't be too feisty. The Bishop would love to meet you…and then who knows…" he knelt down next to her so she could see his face. "…maybe we could have a little…fun…" he laughed and traced a finger down her jaw. It was the last thing Sparrow remembered before she blacked out.


	25. Fairy Tales

_**Disclaimer: i own nothing but my characters...**_

_**Vintersong: thanks for reviewing**_

_**lucillaq: Rhyne and Gwen are not real sisters, but call themselves that for a reason you will find out this chapter. The next few chapters are probably going to be really emotional...if you cry easily in stories like me...well, that is if I write it good enough...**_

_**Morwen12: thanks for reviewing...glad you like it**_

_**LancelotTristanBaby: thanks for reviewing**_

_**KnightMaiden: that's true...no visuals...lol**_

**_WARNING: And Sparrow got kidnapped...an if you get really quesy with abuse and stuff like that you may want to just skim over the part in this chapter where it goes back to Sparrow...and sorry about it...but the next few chapters probably up to the end will be very emotional...well, if I write it well enough...so be ready if you cry easily when you read stories and stuff..._**

Justice Will Rhyne

Chapter Twenty-Five- Fairy Tales

Rhyne was trying to avoid Arthur as much as possible. She did not want him to corner her alone and force information out of her about Guinevere, and why they called each other sister. They were not real sisters of course, but they were vowed to the Great Dragon as sisters. Rhyne rode along side Lancelot most of the first day with the caravan, or else she rode in the wagon carrying the injured, helping to care for them. She knew all the knights were curious on how they knew each other, but none pressed the issue. They felt the tension between both her and Arthur, and her and Tristan, so they forced themselves not to say anything. Rhyne was not speaking to Tristan either. He was scouting mostly, only coming back to report and rest before going out again. That is where he was now, and would be gone for most of the night.

Rhyne walked through camp towards the wagon carrying the injured. Rhyne looked at the scar on her right palm. It was still a little pink from being reopened a few weeks ago. It was the scar that only she, the Dragon and Guinevere share. It was the first cut that she and Guinevere sisters. She only opened it a few times.

Rhyne saw Dagonet, with Lucan wrapped and sitting in his lap, with Tarí on side of him and Bors on the other leaning against one of the wheels of the wagon, small fire before them. Apparently, Dagonet was telling her a story which Rhyne thought very odd. Bors was the one to tell the stories, Dagonet adding some things here and there. Tarí's laugh was light and cheery. Dagonet smiled brightly at her, and continued with the story. Lucan was smiling as well, though, very weakly. A fever began to rise in the little boy when Rhyne helped Dagonet set the broken bone in Lucan's arm.

Rhyne smiled as she walked closer to the scene in front of her. She had never seen Dagonet smile so widely. She stayed in the shadows, hearing them speak. "…and so in the height of our interest and surprise in what Jols reported, we all made our way to the stables to see for ourselves." He paused for a moment.

"And what did you see?" Tarí asked impatiently.

"Rhyne was indeed trying to teach Tristan how to dance, but he was failing miserably. His feet always going the wrong direction. His hands never on time or in the right place. He even tripped over his own feet once, and that is very unusual for Tristan. You never see him look awkward anywhere, only around Rhyne. It was a hilarious sight." The three of them laughed.

Rhyne snorted and walked form the shadows. "Of all the stories to tell her, you must choose that one," she smiled in mirth.

"Tarí was wondering how you came into our presence, and that memory came to mind," Dagonet explained with a smile.

"And you just couldn't resist," Rhyne added. There were laughs all around. "Fine, fine. But don't embarrass me in the process."

"And what of the scout?" Bors asked.

"Oh," Rhyne smiled. "You can embarrass him all you like." She chuckled.

"You two are having a rift." Dagonet said. It was not a question.

"I snapped at him when I shouldn't have, that's all," she breathed.

"Just walk up and kiss him," Bors suggested. "That will make it all right."

Rhyne eyed her friend with amusement. "That doesn't work for all of us, Bors."

They laughed and Rhyne walked to the entrance of the wagon but stopped. "You do know if Tristan hears you telling that one, he would kill you."

Tarí gasped. "He wouldn't!" She laid a hand on Dagonet's arm.

Rhyne smiled. "Oh he would." She climbed into the wagon and heard Tarí begin to plead with Dagonet to not get killed on her account. Rhyne shook her head and smiled. They would be good for each other. Rhyne walked to the back of the wagon where Guinevere was sitting up against the back wall, furs wrapped around her. "Greetings sister," Rhyne said in the British language.

"Greetings," Guinevere replied. They took each other's right hands. Where their scars resided.

"Your father is worried for you," Rhyne spoke, as they continued to speak in the same language.

"You have seen him?"

Rhyne nodded. "A few times."

"Is he well?"

"As well as can be expected. How long were you down there?" Rhyne said in disgust.

"I honestly don't know. At least a few weeks. Though, it could have even been a few months," Guinevere answered.

"Why?"

"Why do you think?"

Rhyne growled. "Did he get that far?"

Guinevere shook her head. "No, thank the Gods. I got lucky because you and the knights came." She took Rhyne's hand. "Thank you."

"I was not the one who saved you," Rhyne smiled.

The Woad nodded her head. "How goes it with Arthur?"

"He is more stubborn than I thought. But I have seen a change in the last few days. I think he needed to see proof. Perhaps you can help me with the rest?"

"Me?"

"I have seen the way he looks at you, and you at him." Rhyne smiled again, but wider. "It could help us."

"He doesn't know I am Merlin's daughter. That would be a bit of a shock for him."

"He will know soon enough, but I do not think it will matter in the long run."

Guinevere eyed her sister. "What are you planning?"

"I think Merlin knew this would happen. All of it, all along. He wants to meet Arthur," Rhyne explained.

"How do you know that?"

Rhyne closed her eyes. "He is close." She opened her eyes again. "Can't you feel him?"

Guinevere shook her head. "I am too weak. When does he want to meet?"

Rhyne closed her eyes again, and heard a whisper in her mind. "Tomorrow night," she said with she opened them again. "Arthur is wondering why I know you. He wants to ask, I can see it in his eyes. He wants to know why I call you sister."

"Will he take the truth well, or will he think you betrayed him?"

"I don't know," Rhyne breathed. "But it must be done." She took a deep breath. "I heard you today, speaking to him when he relocated your fingers. "_The famous Briton that kills his own people_." Rhyne smiled. "Nice touch."

"It's true, is it not?"

"Yes it is, but I think that one statement has taken him aback more than anything else he has ever heard." They laughed and Rhyne sighed. "You had better sleep; we will travel all day tomorrow." They took each other's hands again and Rhyne left the wagon. The three sitting by the fire never saw her exit.

Rhyne walked over to the fire Lancelot sat by alone and took a seat across from him. "Rhyne?" Lancelot called over the flames.

"Hmm?" she looked up at him.

"Why are you sitting with me?"

"No reason," she shrugged. "Either with you or alone."

"And Tristan?"

"What about him?"

"Have you two spoken at all today?"

"Does everybody know we have not spoken?" she snapped plopping onto her back, staring up at the growing moon.

"Well, neither of you talk that much to begin with, and when you don't talk at all, it's not that tough to miss." He sighed. "What happened?"

"I snapped, and we had a disagreement."

"About the girl." It was not a question. Rhyne looked from the moon to Lancelot. Her face showed nothing. "How do you know her? Arthur said you called each other sisters." It was a seriousness Rhyne had not seen from Lancelot before. "Why are you friends with her? She's a Woad."

"So am I," she answered simply, laying on her back and gazing at the stars once more.

"You are one of us," Lancelot corrected.

"Who has a British Princess for a mother, who is a Princess herself?" Rhyne did not want to talk about this, not yet. Lancelot figured that much with the tone she used, so he kept silent.

Bors and Dagonet continued to entertain Tarí with stories of their childhood and the beginning of their adventures. Their conversations settled down for a few moments as Dagonet put Lucan to sleep beneath the cover of the cart. Once he sat back down Tarí was looking wistfully into the flames before them. "How did they fall in love?"

"What?" Bors asked.

"Rhyne and Tristan…how did they fall in love? They seem so different from each other. How could after that many years of separation, they love as fiercely as they do?"

Both Dagonet and Bors were silent for a long moment. "That, I think," Dagonet smiled lightly, "will have to be something you ask her." Tarí looked back into the fire. "But I think that they are the only ones who truly understand one another. They are both complicated people." She smiled. "Now we all should rest. We will be traveling all day tomorrow." Soon Tarí slept in between Dagonet and Lucan, Bors not far from them.

In the morning, Rhyne helped get the villagers ready for their long trek through the East Mountains. Tristan had not returned to the camp until the sun was rising. He had camped out on the trail. Probably a good thing, for both of them. Just before they were ready to start their long journey again Tristan came galloping up on his dapple grey. He galloped right passed her. She could not tell if he looked at her because of the hair in front of his eyes. Rhyne looked down sadly than went back to work. Tarí came up next to her, loading the pile of blankets she used last night onto the cart. "Still nothing?"

Rhyne looked at the young woman. "No. But we don't talk much to begin with. It was never needed. A simple look or touch can say a thousand words."

"You two seem the most unlikely pair. How is it that you fell for one another?"

Rhyne smiled warmly. "We were children. My father had just died, protecting Arthur's father who died as well. Arthur and I might as well be brother and sister. There were twenty five of them in the beginning."

"Twenty five? And now there are so few."

"For fifteen years they served. Now only six remain." Rhyne closed her eyes a moment, and then smiled again. "We all became good friends. At first Tristan was very distant, like he is now. But one night, when I went up to the battlements, I began to cry for my father and mother. Then I realized someone was there with their arms around my shoulders comforting me. It was Tristan. I cried for hours onto his shoulder. I was ten at the time, and he was thirteen. He carried me home that night."

"That is so sweet," Tarí gave her cute thoughtful smile.

Rhyne chuckled. "Oh but it gets better. The next morning, he brought me a rose when he came to breakfast. I helped in the tavern with those who became my foster parents. It was from that moment on we were inseparable. He continued to help teach me the sword and bow, I showed him how to sneak out of the fort and to a small lake in a thick of woods, and he was the one who was there for me when I cried."

"Is that how you came to love him?"

Rhyne looked up at the grey sky. The clouds moved east, and for a single moment, a hole in the sky opened and the sun peeked through the darkness, then it closed once more. "I fell in love with him not because we were the same, and not even because we were different, but because the way we saw the world the same. We saw it differently than everyone else, but we still learned from each other. Everything grew from there."

"That's what Dagonet said. That you understood each other." Tarí smiled and Rhyne nodded.

* * *

**A/N (This is where the warning applies...so you might want to skip ahead to the next break...)**

Her head was throbbing. Her eye lids were sore as she lifted them. Sparrow groaned at the brightness of the light. She went to lift a hand to shield the gleam from her eyes and realized she couldn't. Her hands were bound, as well as her feet, and a cloth was wrapped around her mouth. Panic set in she began thrashing her body about to try and loosen the binds. A voice made her stop. "Quit!" Two strong hands grabbed her shoulders roughly and turned her around on the bed. The memories of last night flood back to her and her eyes widened in fear. "The Bishop should be on his way soon." She did not hear him, but instead went looking around the room. She did not recognize it. They were not in the inn. It must be the village.

Sparrow closed her eyes and a single tear fell down her cheek. There was no way out. They sat there are waited. The man occasionally looked at her with a lustful smile on her face. Sparrow decided to close her eyes permanently and think. She still had her dress on from last night and carried nothing on her that would be able to cut through the rope on her hands. She cursed her self for being so stupid. Somewhat for talking the tes from him, but mostly for not having a knife on her. Her thoughts traveled to Lancelot as the door to the room was opened a group of three men entered. One she recognized as Bishop Germanus. Despite her fear, Sparrow glared at him as he gave her a smile. "Hello my dear. I trust you remember me." She didn't move. "Yes, well. We have some things to talk about. Remove the cloth," he ordered.

One man moved towards her and she shank backwards, but he pulled her tied hands to him and yanked off the cloth over her mouth. Sparrow saw the flash of a dagger at his belt and lunged for it. She was too quick for him, and stabbed him in the shoulder. He howled in pain. Sparrow was suddenly pulled backwards and slammed against the wall, making her fall to the ground. She got to her hands and knees and left a swift kick in the ribs which made her hunch over in pain.

She was picked up and dropped back onto the bed where her hands her unbound and retied one to each of the bed posts over her head. The same with her legs. She was going nowhere now. The Bishop sat on the bed next to her and laid his hand on her stomach. Her muscles tensed under his touch, and she was glad it was a dress she wore and not a tunic so he could reach underneath. "You are quite a beautiful girl. Like your mother." His fingers moved up her torso and squeezed one of her breasts. Sparrow clinched her eyes tight as the men standing behind him laughed.

His hand rested there, and Sparrow opened her eyes and spoke firmly. "What do you want with me?"

He laughed. "I want nothing with you. It is your mother. We are old friends."

"She is no friend with a Roman Bishop, of that I am sure."

"Well, not exactly friends." Sparrow could barely stand his smile. "We met once before. Before you were born, and I have not liked the way she has treated me since my arrival."

Sparrow's eyes narrowed. "You will get nothing from me," she said through clenched teeth.

"Oh darling, it is not the idea at all." He paused. "You are here because of what an insolent, barbaric, savage whore your mother is." His tone hardened with every word.

Sparrow's gaze never faltered. She knew what was happening now, but she would stay strong for as long as possible. "Know this, whatever it is you do to me, it will come back to you three fold. They will not let my suffering go unpunished. You will only be adding wood to the fire."

"No, no dear. They have not the courage to strike me, if they live that is."

"Oh they will live," Sparrow said. "Their will is stronger than you think." Sparrow gathered spit in her mouth and blew it out of her mouth hard, hitting the Bishop square in the face. His men rushed forward, but he put his hand up and they stopped. Sparrow smiled with what little satisfaction it gave her. He wiped the spit from his face and saw her smirk. He slapped her hard with the back of his ringed hand. She showed no reaction, only turned her passive face back to him and said nothing.

He smiled and stood. "Have a good time, dear." With that he left the room.

The three men looked at her expectantly and stepped forward. Sparrow tried to look unfazed, but the closer they got the more her barrier between strength and panic lowered. Then as one man tied the cloth around her mouth again and another lifted the skirt of her dress, she creamed and tears began falling. She feared for the baby, and prayed to any and all Gods that existed to save and protect the life growing inside of her. Sparrow struggled against them as much as they could, which did not put up much of a fight. Two men cut the bindings from her feet and spread her legs wide, as the third climbed on top of her. She pulled at her wrists so hard she felt a bone pop out of place, but it did not faze her. She closed her eyes tight as he got into position grabbed her hips roughly and drove into her hard. She screamed, but it sounded like no more than a moan of pleasure on the other side of the door to the people walking past. They took turns with her that day, and abused her late into the night.

* * *

Soon the caravan was on its way and Tristan went out scouting again. It began snowing. Rhyne was riding next to the opening of the cart which Guinevere sat at the opening of with a fur wrapped around her. They shared an occasional word here and there in their native language. There was a while in which Lucan sat in the Woad Princess's lap and she sang him a song. It involved the movement of her hands, and Rhyne soon began singing along. She had sung the same thing to Sparrow as a young girl. Lucan laughed and smiled merrily. The knights slowly drifted near to the voice of Guinevere who had not spoken to them much at all. She was looking much stronger than she had the past night, Rhyne decided. Soon Lucan was thoroughly exhausted and went back to sleep.

"So how is your knight?" Guinevere asked Rhyne in their language.

"As well as can be expected."

"He did not look friendly this morning."

"Yes, well, lover's quarrel, what can I say." The women chuckled.

"What did he say about Sparrow?"

"He considers her a daughter now. It appears I finally have a family," Rhyne smiled down on her sister.

Guinevere repeated the smile. "I am happy for you, Rhyne. After everything you have gone through, you deserve a little peace."

"Yes well, that is not going to happen until he Saxons are defeated…and if we by some miracle live threw it," Rhyne looked ahead and saw Lancelot and Arthur staring back at them. "They are looking back here again."

Guinevere looked forward as well. Arthur was now moving his horse towards them. The two sisters looked at each other and smirked wicked. Rhyne knew what she was going to do. It would be the first time Guinevere could truly speak to him. _This should be fun_, Rhyne thought. Arthur stopped his horse opposite Rhyne, and gave both women a look before turning his gaze back ahead. "My father told me great tales of you," Guinevere said.

"And what did you hear?" Arthur did not look at her.

"Fairy tales. About people so brave so selfless they cannot be real…Arthur and his knights. A leader both Briton and Roman." Rhyne smiled. "But you chose your allegiance to Rome. Those who take what does not belong to them. That same Rome that took your men from their homelands…"

Arthur turned his horse abruptly and he disagreed with the jerk. "Listen, Lady. Do not presume that you know anything about me or my men."

"How many Britons have you killed?" she asked calmly.

"As many that tried to kill me," Arthur replied. "It is a natural state of any man to want to live."

"Animals live!" Guinevere angrily snapped. "It is a natural state of any man to want to live free, in their own country!" She stared at him a moment, then smiled again. "I belong to this land, where do you belong, Arthur?"

"Is that why they tortured you, because you were free?"

"Far too free." Arthur looked at Rhyne at the answer. He had heard it before.

"How are your hands?" he asked softly.

"I'll live I promise you." Guinevere gave him a flirty smile. "Is there nothing of my land that appeals to your heart? Your own father married a Briton. Even he must have found something to his liking." With that Arthur galloped away. Lancelot fell in beside Rhyne and glanced back a Guinevere. "Tis a beautiful country is it not?"

Lancelot looked around and shrugged. "If you say so."

"And where do you come from that compares? The Black Sea. This is heaven for me."

"I don't believe in heaven, I have been living in this hell." Without thinking Lancelot continued. "But if you represent what heaven is then take me there."

Rhyne snapped her head at him and smacked him hard behind the head. Guinevere looked disgusted. Rhyne had told her this knight was with Sparrow. She snorted when Rhyne hit him. "I pray that you are far more deft with your sword than with your flattery." Sulking, Lancelot rode away.

The rain picked up along with the white flurries. Rhyne looked up at the sky and grimaced. "A bad omen."

"Aye," Guinevere nodded grimly and brought the fur tighter to her body.

They made their way to the place they would camp that night. Tristan had reported back that the area was safe and Arthur sent him out again. Tristan passed Rhyne with no intention of looking at her was his hawk jumped from his shoulder to hers. "Hello there, girl," Rhyne smiled and scratched the bird's head. It nibbled on her ear as Tristan came trotting up beside them. Rhyne turned to him and her smiled faded a bit. "Tris," Rhyne said simply.

"It seems she wants us to speak," he replies passively.

"Yes it does." Rhyne just looked at him a moment, then turned away. "I never meant to insult you like I did," she sighed. "But I am tired of people asking how I am doing." The hawk flew into the sky at that. The both watched her go.

Tristan looked back at Rhyne and saw how he refused to look at her. He reached over and pulled her chin to force his eyes to him. They just looked at each other a moment before he crushed her lips to his. She smiled against his lips as the kiss went deeper. Tristan pulled her onto his lap and tightened his grip around the small of her back. When they pulled apart Tristan whispered into her ear. "I'm sorry."

"I missed you." They kissed again and then Tristan lifted her to her own horse.

"I have to go, but will see you in the morning." He gave her one last kiss and rode of behind them.

The camp was settled and night was falling. Rhyne sat with Dagonet, Bors and Tarí as they readied fire and ate some of their stored food. They were telling stories again, but Rhyne kept the back of her mind open to listen for Merlin's presence. Rhyne was in the middle of laughing, remembering a certain scheme she planned against Lancelot when they were children.

"So, because of his arrogant self," Rhyne laughed as she spoke, "I came up with a plan."

"Oh, yes!" Bors bellowed. "You would never believe the evils the Little Witch carries."

"So what did you do?" Tarí asked.

"We got the prettiest boy we could find around the same age and paid him a generous amount of money to play along. The amount did not matter to us, for the laughs would be worth it," Rhyne explained. "So we dressed him up as a girl, dress make-up and all and told him the plan."

"We all hid in the rafters of the stables and waited," Dagonet went on. "Lancelot came wondering in, and soon after the boy followed. Automatically, Lancelot moved to woo her."

"And with our instruction, we told him to play plain hard to get, and then give him, and let Lancelot go on and do his thing," Rhyne smiled.

"And so…what happened?"

Bors told the end, "Lancelot kissed him, and the boy removed his wig!" he paused so all could laugh. "The boy pointed up at in the rafters and Lancelot turned."

"He had the most horrified look on his face I have ever seen, and we could not hold our breath anymore, we laughed so hard!" Rhyne said.

"That is so cruel!" Tarí exclaimed with a merry look.

"Yes," Rhyne nodded. "But is will never be forgotten."

The stories went on as the sun set and the moon rose into the still stormy sky. It began to snow again, and all tightened their cloaks around them. Hawk snuggled close to Rhyne and she wrapped part of her cloak around him. Her thoughts traveled to Tristan as she looked ahead of her. She saw Guinevere speaking with Lancelot across his own fire. She watched closely, for Sparrow's sake. But nothing happened. They had short words and Guinevere walked away.

It was not long after that when Rhyne felt a surge at the back of her mind. He was ready. Rhyne closed her eyes and whispered to Guinevere in her mind. She got the message. Rhyne stood. "I cold, I have to walk for a while." The three nodded at her. "You coming, Little Brother?"

Rhyne walked into the forest and saw Guinevere leading Arthur away, she followed them silently.

* * *

How was it...good...bad...too much...? 


	26. The Beginning of the End

_**Disclaimer: own nothing….**_

**_To my reviewers and faithful readers:….hey guys…sorry about the delay…been working on some new stories and such, and homework of course…I would thank all individually, but sort of in a rush…thank you all for sticking with me for this long…and we are almost at the end, maybe six or seven more chapters…sounds like a lot, but I think it will be done by the end of this month…I have been thinking about a sequel, but I not thought of a good enough story…anyone have any suggestions…I was thinking a story having to do with Mordred and young children of the Knights…dunno…working on tons of stories right now…LOTR…Mummy…Last Samurai…Braveheart…and a 2nd KA one…I am a crazy fanatic, though, I think most of us are…_**

_**Thanks you guys for everything….**_

Justice Will Rhyne

Chapter Twenty-Six- The Beginning of the End

Rhyne stood in the shadow of the trees behind Guinevere, waiting for the right moment. Arthur never expected to see Merlin standing at the top of a small hill to their left. He unsheathed Excalibur and pointed it at Guinevere. "You betrayed me."

"He means you no harm," Guinevere stated in her queenly voice.

"Peace between us this night Arthur Castus," Merlin spoke with his revered wise voice that he never lost. Merlin stood next to his daughter, and looked down at Excalibur. "After all these years of war, all you wish now is to fight? I thought you were a man of peace."

"Draw your sword, Merlin," Arthur snarled.

"As you can see, I am not armed." He held up his hands, showing no sword in sight. "I did not come for a fight."

"Then what did you come for?"

Merlin smiled. "To show you who you are."

"I do not need you telling me who I am."

"Arthur, you have no people." Guinevere stated. "You have only what you must become." Arthur seemed a little confused by what she said.

"Your scout has not yet returned, but mine has." Arthur seemed a little disgruntled by Merlin's words. "He says a small part of the Saxon army will be within a few miles of where we stand by sunrise."

Arthur's face changed from confusion to worry. Arthur eyed Merlin. "Why should I trust you?"

"We share an enemy, Arthur." Merlin spoke slowly. "And at the same time, Rome runs away, its tail between its legs." Merlin stared straight into Arthur's eyes. "But what of Arthur, and his knights?"

"We won't be staying for the farewell party," Arthur stated firmly.

"You would run, as Rome is doing?" Guinevere asked. "I thought you a more honorable man than to be a coward in the face of an enemy."

"My knights trust me not to betray them to their enemy!" Arthur forced.

Rhyne stepped from the shadows. "And who is that?" The three of them looked in her direction. Rhyne stopped at Merlin's side and Hawk stood beside her. Rhyne could not describe he look on Arthur's face. "Who is your enemy Arthur?"

He went from confusion, to shock, to disbelief, to anger. "You…stand next…to them." He was so angry he could barely speak.

"My allegiance," Rhyne spoke calmly, "is to the side of right, of justice."

Arthur was speechless. They waited for him to speak. It could have been hours, but words finally formed. "You stand next to those who have killed my knights, your own brothers as you have claimed!"

"Rome is my enemy. Never Arthur." Merlin stood calmly.

Arthur was the only raging one. "You tell that to the knights you have killed before my eyes. Whose bones are buried in this earth."

"We have all lost brothers, Arthur." Rhyne spoke in the same passive and calm voice Tristan always used. "And that will never change. I know you hold Merlin responsible for what happened to your mother, but if you intended to kill every Briton in his wake, why have you saved so many?"

He had not an answer to that question. "Why…?"

"Why do I stand with them?" Rhyne finished for him. He nodded. "As I said, my allegiance stands with right and justice, as theirs does."

"You have betrayed us…" Arthur stumbled out the words.

"Who has betrayed who Arthur?" Rhyne asked in protest. "Your knights deserve the freedom they had rightfully earned, and were pushed into to begin with. And you…you were the one who did not stop this from happening. So who is the traitor, Arthur? Who is to blame?"

Arthur was silent for a long time.

"My men are strong," Merlin broke the silence, "but they need a true leader. They believe you can do anything." He paused a moment. "To defeat the Saxons we need a master of war. Why do you think I spared you in the forest?"

Arthur looked Merlin in the eye. "You want me to lead your people?"

"You are the only one capable of uniting this country," Rhyne added.

"That is for you Merlin. I will go to Rome," Arthur said.

"Do you think it was chance that brought you and your knights to this island?" Merlin asked, trying to convince him. "You may be a Roman, but you are holding a British sword. A weapon forged is from the iron of this earth. It bears _our_ gods! Not yours!"

Arthur held Excalibur tightly. "It was my father's sword. And his father's before that and-"

"And like you," Rhyne interrupted, "it is of this land. Like me, it is of this land. You and I both have the blood of different worlds, but we are both Britons. This land has always been our home, and it will be here where we will be put to rest, and here where we will be born again. Not even eternity can change that."

Arthur went silent again. He looked at the three people that stand before him. Two Woad warriors and rulers, and a daughter of a Sarmatian Knight and a Princess of the Novantae. Rhyne too was royalty. The Woads were her people as well. And his mother, a Briton. As he stared at the ones before him, he could no longer deny their likeness.

Merlin broke the silence. "The new generation of Britons believe that as a Roman, you have the ability and knowledge to beat back the Saxons, and as a Briton, you have the will."

"You are their leader," Arthur replied. "Why not name yourself king and lead them to victory?"

Merlin shook his head and stared into Arthur's soul. "It is not my place. That, is reserved for you."

Arthur stopped breathing. The truth of what they were saying hit him hard, but he did not stop resisting. "You are mad."

"The world is crumbling all around us, Arthur. Can't you see it?" Rhyne spoke. "Fear, hate, death…they dominate what we call home. Everything that you desire…justice, compassion…peace…" Rhyne paused, waiting for Arthur to look her in the eye. When he did she continued. "Those things will only come, with you leading us, and the knights at your side."

With a burst of passion Merlin took a hard step forward. "The people united! United Arthur! With the knowledge and will you have, we can win our country back!"

Arthur turned away from them. "I can not betray my knights to their sworn enemy."

Rhyne smiled. "And who is that Arthur? Who is your true enemy?" They went back to the one question that defined the man standing before him, in a mind struggle to accept the truth. "Are we your enemy? Am I? Your mother's killer?"

With the mention of his mother Arthur whipped back around Excalibur held tightly before him. "Her killer was her own people!" he yelled. Emotion over came him and he fell to his knees. No one rushed to his side. "What was her sin, Merlin?" he asked desperately. "The love of my father?"

"Your mother, was never my enemy, nor was your father," Merlin replied.

Arthur snorted. "Then why are they buried?"

"And how many fathers, brothers, and sons, have you and your knights killed?" the Shaman asked.

"I don't choose my enemies," Arthur said quietly.

"Everyone is your enemy!" Rhyne snapped. "What are you going to do, Arthur, when you reach you beloved Rome? When they do not agree with the ways of that sword, will you cut off their heads? All of them?"

"I do not go to Rome to fight," Arthur protested. "I go to follow the steps of my teacher."

"_Our_ teacher, Arthur," Rhyne corrected. She wanted to tell him, but it would break hid heart. No, now is not the time.

"You will never find in Rome what you seek," Merlin spoke in quiet power and wisdom. "Not all the armies of the world could do that. If you go to Rome, in the end, you will die a meaningless death…"

"But here Arthur," Rhyne continued. "Here there is hope…you can save these people, Arthur…and here you can build a new world…of peace, justice and compassion." She ended quietly.

Arthur turned away again. Guinevere saw how difficult this was on him so she slowly walked forward, and crouched in from of him. With a single finger she reached out and traced the length of his sword. "This great sword…Excalibur…" she said in a mystical and awed whisper. "If used in the service of this land, it will bring back the spirits of those we have lost."

Arthur looked at her. "We can never bring them back," he said defiantly. Disappointed, Guinevere stood and retook her place beside Merlin. "The dead are dead forever."

"Are they?" Rhyne asked. "Then how can I dream I speak to my father? How can I sing with my mother's voice that comes on the wind?"

"None of it is real."

"Not real you say," Merlin asked. "We shall see." Merlin walked towards him gently, and Arthur finally stood. He should have stepped back from the Shamans touch, but he couldn't. Merlin set a hand on Arthur's shoulder, and everything around them began to dissolve.

The four of them watched the death of Arthur's mother roll out before them. They could even feel the heat of the fire it was so real. They watched Arthur pulled the sword from his father's grave. It put chills in Rhyne's spine. She could feel the magic even now, when Arthur first laid hands on it, gripping it away from the ground. Excalibur passed itself into the hands of a small boy, who knew not the fate that he now set himself into.

Then the scene finally disappeared, and they were back in the woods they had come from. Arthur stood weeping lightly. "You were but a boy," Merlin spoke softly. "We have all lost family to the enemy. It was the life we chose, and with that came a dear price."

Arthur finally slipped Excalibur back into its sheath.

Merlin continued. "Do you know what I think a great leader is?" Rhyne smiled, she had had this lecture before, long ago. "A man who hates leaders. A man who would mistrust even themselves in that position. A man who leads only because someone must."

"My knights trust me to get them through this. It must get them home," Arthur stated.

"Yes, they wish to go home," Rhyne spoke. "But they to fail to realize how much of a home this place has become to them. But where is your home, Arthur, if not here?"

Arthur did not answer.

"It is your destiny," Guinevere said firmly.

"There is no destiny," Arthur countered. "Only free will." Arthur turned to walk away, but stopped when Rhyne spoke.

"And what of the free will of your knights…have they died in vain?"

Arthur did not answer again.

"There comes a time in everyone's life," Merlin said, "where God sets a path before you, but only you can decide where to take that first step. Sometimes, you most choose your destiny. It is not God's job, but your own."

Rhyne nodded. "There's a difference between knowing the path, and walking the path."

Arthur was going to respond, but decided against it and walked away from them. They walked until Arthur disappeared. Merlin turned to the other two. "That went well."

"Yes," Rhyne said. "But will it work? I have not told him about Pelaguis. Don't have the courage."

"Perhaps that is what needs to be done." Merlin stated. "That will make him see the truth."

"It only gets harder from here," Rhyne sighed. "It has only just begun. Next, I will have to face the rest. And I'm scared to death."

"They will understand."

"I surely hope so."

"Come, my dears." Merlin put his arms around their shoulders. "Let us speak of the next step."

The sun was rising and Vanora made her way to the tavern with only Gilly and Two in tow. The rest were being watched by one of the handmaidens of the inn, as was done every early morning. When the children woke they were taken to the tavern, fed, and either kept there or allowed to go and play if they were the older ones. They turned down the alley that led them to the tavern when Vanora noticed a heap of a body lying against the wall on the far end. She rolled her eyes and figured it a drunken soldier. But as they got closer, she realized it was not a soldier at all, but a woman. "Mama, who is that?" Gilly asked her.

"I don't know, poppet." Vanora knelt to the woman's side. She was breathing shallowly. There were bruises covering her entire body. Her dress was dirty and torn. An arm and a pile of hair was covering her face. It was not until then that Vanora realized the color of her hair. Deep red. "By the Gods…please no…" she whispered. Vanora took the woman's shoulder and rolled her over. Her face gasped in horror. "Sparrow! Oh Gods, Sparrow!" Vanora took Gilly by the shoulders. "Gilly! Two! Go and wake Jamari and Jarrah, as fast a possible!" The children ran off back to the inn.

Vanora pushed all the hair out of the injured woman's face and put a hand on her cheek. "Sparrow! Sparrow, can you hear me?" She groaned and moved her head, but did not open her eyes. A few moments later, Jarrah appeared and they got Sparrow into the sick room and got to work.

Rhyne and Guinevere made their way back through the trees after speaking with Merlin all night. There was a ruckus up ahead at camp and they ran forward. Guinevere grabbed a stray mercenary bow as Rhyne snatched hers from her saddle before heading for the noise. From a distance they saw Marius holding a knife at Lucan's throat. Dagonet was fighting off four mercenaries. "Don't kill him." Rhyne smirked with a sparkle in her eye. Guinevere nodded. They loaded their arrows and released. One landed into Marius' shoulder and the other onto the top of his foot. He released Lucan with a scream and fell to the ground. Lucan ran over to Dagonet who forced the boy behind him as he took his sword. Fulcinia kneeled to her husband's side, but he pushed her away. "Your hands seem to be better, sister," Rhyne smirked again. Guinevere replied with a wicked smile. They loaded two more arrows once more and pulled the bows strings to their cheeks, aiming at the lead mercenary. All knew, by sheer numbers, it was only a matter of a few moments before the three were beat by the many others. But when Arthur stepped next to Guinevere, and Lancelot and the side of Rhyne, the other knights emerged on the scene slowly.

Rhyne raised her brow and tilted her hand in challenge. Many of the knights glanced at Guinevere with a grin, now some what proud to be traveling with a injured girl who can fully draw a 75-pound bow without so much as a twitch in her arms. As Arthur unsheathed Excalibur, the sword sang it's song in delight of prospect of a new kill. Without a second thought, they mercenaries dropped their swords. Both Rhyne and Guinevere let loose their arrows, and they punched into the ground inches away from one of their enemy's feet. The two women lowered their bows passively and walked away. It was a warning.

Tristan galloped up then, holding a crossbow against his shoulder.

"How many did you kill?" Bors called.

"Four."

"Not a bad start to the day," Bors laughed heartily.

Tristan dropped the crossbow at Arthur's feet. "Armor piercing. They're close we have no time."

Arthur looked down at the weapon, and back up at his scout. "You ride ahead."

Tristan nodded and looked for Rhyne. They each smiled when they caught eyes. But she frowned when she realized he was favoring his left shoulder and saw traces of blood in his jerkin. She walked over. "That needs to be looked after."

"It can wait."

"Until you pass out of blood loss and then die of cold?" she asked pointedly. He nodded reluctantly as they headed to the wagon. The caravan was off once she had the wound clean and began stitching. He winced every few times she pushed the needle through his skin. Guinevere watched them with a hint of a smile on her face.

Once Rhyne was finished she helped him put his jerkin back on he took one of her hands in his and kissed her palm. "Thank you." Rhyne just stared back at him. He took her cheek in his hand and leaned forward to her lips. The kiss was loving, but not long enough for their liking. He kissed her forehead and exited the cart, and she heard is horse gallop away. Rhyne turned to her sister, who was smiling madly. Rhyne just smiled shyly back and also remounted her horse.

Rhyne did not fail to notice the looks of both anger and confusion she received Arthur over the next few hours. Rhyne still, did not move from behind the cart, and still conversing with Guinevere. Rhyne shook her head. "One would swear that he thinks me a savage traitor, the way he looks at me," she spoke in the Briton language.

"I find it hard to think that he will forsake you, in the end." Guinevere replied as she stroked Hawk's fur, who had decided to rest in her lap a while ago. "Did you not see him a while ago, with the boy? His eyes have changed. Grief is there now."

Rhyne nodded. "Yes, I saw. I think the boy told him of Pelagius. Let us hope that will help fulfill our duty. For it was the last step we were able to take."

It was then that their conversation was interrupted by the cry of a hawk far above them. Hawk looked up alarmed and howled in answer. The bird cried again, and the wolf howled once more. The hawk flew back ahead of the caravan. The wolf looked at Rhyne and translated in a series of growls and barks as Arthur found his way next to her. "What is it?"

"The Saxons will catch up with us after noon. The only way is across a lake. Tristan is looking for other routes now, but has yet to find one," Rhyne looked at Arthur.

"A lake?" Arthur questioned. "And how are we to cross that?"

"Look around you?" Rhyne asked with a smile, gesturing to the whiteness of the land. "How do think we shall cross it?" Realization hit and Rhyne smiled wider. But it was at that moment, her brain was sliced in two. Another vision.

A battle, on ice. It was cracking beneath her feet, and she fell through. Then an image of a single sword above a grave appeared before her. Then she woke. Her head still ached. She was on the ground. Two people were kneeled before her. "What did you see, sister?" Guinevere asked in the native language.

"What I came to stop," Rhyne groaned getting on her knees. Arthur was the other next to her. His eyes full of concern, despite his previous actions. "The first of three," she faced her sister again. Guinevere's eyes widened.

"Are you alright, Rhyne? What was it?" Arthur asked.

"A very bad headache, that is all. I will be fine," She sighed and got to her feet, and she managed not to sway. He head still throbbed. "We should get moving." She mounted once more. Arthur did so as well, though reluctantly, and trotted forward. Guinevere jumped into the cart once more.

"It is to happen on the ice." It was not a question.

Rhyne nodded. "So, my destiny has begun. The beginning of the end."


	27. Truth May Hurt

**Disclaimer: I won nothing…except Rhyne and Sparrow and other characters I added…**

**Whoa…I am so sorry it has taken this long. I have thought of this chapter the entire time I have been writing this story. It needed to be perfect. Life has been very very crazy since I last updated, not to mention a small case of writer's black I cured to get this finished recently. I have re read it a million times, so there shouldn't be any mistakes, or any big ones…sorry if there are little ones here and there…I am horrible at editing my own stuff…**

**I am sorry again for this taking too long…but like I said…life got in the way, like it has the habit of doing…hehehe**

**I great big thanks to all my loyal readers and reviewers…you guys are very important to me…and are not scared to be harsh with the reviews, for that I am grateful.**

**So here is the big chapter…and I hope it is good enough for you guys. You have been wanting to know who CONNER is, well the answer is right here, in this chapter. Finally! I hope you like it. I have written three or four different versions of this part coming up between Rhyne and the knights…and I thought this was the best…not too over dramatic…but some what bitter sweet, and it gets the point across…**

Justice Will Rhyne

Chapter Twenty-Seven-Truth May Hurt

It seemed like the snow would never stop. The wind constantly blew, and to everyone but Tristan, Rhyne and Guinevere, everything looked the same. The knights trusted in Tristan that he was leading them in the right direction. The scout had returned a while after his hawk had passed on his message. There was no way around the lake, not for a caravan with a line of carts to pass through.

Rhyne was once again riding behind the sick cart, every once in a while she and Guinevere would exchange a few words. The cart carrying the Roman family was being pulled behind Rhyne. Arthur pulled up to the side of the cart and began speaking with Alecto, who was leaning against the open window. Marius was inside, asleep in fever.

"I'm sorry it had to work out this way," Arthur said.

"My father lost his way," Alecto shrugged. "He says the church is there to help us stay on our path. He didn't help those he made suffer."

"The path he chose was not of the church Alecto," Arthur said.

"But it is of Rome. What my father believes so Rome believes."

"What?" Arthur frowned. "That some men are born to be slaves? No, that isn't true. Pelaguis, a man like my father is there in Rome, now, teaching that all men are free. Equal to choose their own destiny."

"Teach? How?" Alecto shook his head incredulously. "They killed Pelagius." Arthur stopped breathing. Rhyne looked back at them. Arthur was ready to fall of his horse. "A year past," Alecto continued. "Germanus and the others were damned by his teachings. They had him excommunicated and killed." Arthur's whole world tumbled down. Everything he believed, everything he fought for…it was long dead…if it ever existed in the first place. Alecto saw his reaction and felt pity to him. "The Rome you long for, does not exist. Except in your dreams."

Arthur had to stop his horse. He had to will his lungs to breath and his heart to beat. What was there for him now?

They passed a burnt out village along the rode. Bodies lie everywhere. Women, children. They left none alive. Smoke still rose from the crisps of the fragments of their homes. It all began to freeze over. If there was a hell on Earth, here it would lie. These people, marked by the chaos that is war.

Lucan looked on the village in fear. Dagonet, who rode next to Rhyne, saw the boy's fear. "This won't happen to us, will it?" he voice shook.

Dagonet smiled lightly to him looked down to his horse. "Did I ever tell you," the knight said in a delightful whisper, "that this horse was once a man?" Lucan twisted his head in confusion. "That's right. When a man dies bravely in battle…he returns as a great horse. To carry other knights into battle. To protect them." Dagonet pointed to all the horses around them. Zyfer neighed and threw his head up and down in agreement. Rhyne laughed heartily.

Lucan followed suit. "They are all warriors!" he shouted dreamily. "Do they speak to each other?"

"Of course they do!" Rhyne said. "If you are quiet enough, when in the stables at night, you can hear them. Zyfer and I speak all the time," she patted the horse's neck.

Lucan smiled widely. "When we get back to the Wall," Dagonet said to him, "we will go listen to them, you and I." The boy nodded then lay back to sleep.

Rhyne smiled at the two. Dagonet would take Lucan as his own. It made perfect sense to her. Just as Tristan took Sparrow as his own. Goddess knows how much Sparrow has reminded her of Tristan over their years of solitude. Rhyne set a hand on her stomach. She smiled thoughtfully. If they lived through this, she would tell him. Merlin told her there would be two. Rhyne just hoped Tristan would be pleased. She could not do it alone again.

The caravan came to the lake by midday. Rhyne dismounted Zyfer at the water's edge and slowly stepped onto the ice. Zyfer stamped his foot into the snow and snorted. Rhyne rubbed his cheek gently. She whispered into his ear to sooth him. Then she took a strap on his bridle in her hand and he followed her onto the lake slowly.

The knights reached the middle of the lake and a loud crack sounded from underneath them. Then the drums began to sound behind them. They were closer then anyone would have liked. Hawk growled low. Rhyne looked over at Tristan. Both knew a fight was evitable and stopped where they stood, waiting for Arthur's command. Guinevere hopped from the wagon and looked on the knights.

Arthur finally turned and looked on his men. "Knights…" Nothing else needed to be said.

"Well, I'm tired of running," Bors said. "These Saxons are so close behind my ass is hurting."

"Never liked looking over my shoulder anyway," Tristan stated passively. Dagonet nodded at him in agreement.

"It will be a pleasure to put an end to this racket," Gawain smiled.

"Finally get a look at the bastards," Galahad added.

"Well," Rhyne smirked. "I would love to see if that curse actually worked." Bors snorted.

Dagonet gave a satisfied smile. "Here. Now," he remarked simply.

All looked to Lancelot. Rhyne smiled. Arthur had always been the Commander of the knights, and they would never disobey or betray him, but it was to Lancelot that they looked for final affirmation. He shrugged as if saying: might as well. "Jols," Arthur called to the squire.

Jols waited for no other orders, knowing what to do already. "You two," he motioned to two villagers, "take the horses. They gathered the Knight's horses as Jols began gathering shields, arrows and axes from the carts and horses.

"Ganis," Arthur called over the ambitious villager. "You will lead the caravan south. The main Saxon army is inland. If so track the coastline until right above the Wall, you will be safe. There is a main trail that leads to the fort."

"And leave you here eight against 200?" Ganis ridiculed.

"Nine," Guinevere stated passing them. "You could use another bow."

Arthur watched her pass. "I would rather stay and fight," Ganis hoped.

"You will get your chance soon enough," Arthur finalized. The young man nodded his head obediently. Arthur looked to the mercenaries. "This man is now your captain. You will obey him. Is that understood?"

"Yes, Sir!" the captain nodded.

Rhyne whispered into Zyfer's ear before she let the villager led him away. The horse nodded his head eagerly, understanding his master's command. Hawk was sitting at her side. "Be careful Little Brother. I need you later." The wolf gave a nudge to her hand and she scratched behind his ears as Guinevere arrived at her side. "I have a bad feeling about this," Rhyne said in the British language. Guinevere nodded in agreement. "Gods, I hate my life," she tested her bow.

"Now it can't be all that bad," her sister teased.

"Okay," Rhyne shrugged. "Everything but a small handful is dreadful."

Guinevere laughed as she tested her own bow. Rhyne soon joined her. The caravan moved out without them. Rhyne paid no attention. Her eyes were on the other side of the river. Rhyne stood between Tristan and Lancelot. Guinevere on the dark knight's other side. Jols piled arrows at each of the knight's feet. Rhyne loaded two on her bow.

The drumming kept getting closer and closer. Louder and louder, until it was right on top of them, and stopped. The army showed itself on the opposite bank. The only sound in the canyon was the crunching of the snow under their feet.

The son of the Saxon leader scowled at the knight's straight line formation in the middle of the lake. The weakest point. Then he gave a wide greedy smile. But the ice served to the knight's advantage. "Hold until I give the command," Arthur ordered. Rhyne and Tristan gazed intently at one another, both with the brutal and passive determination on their faces. Hawk's growl made them turn back to the army.

"You look frightened," Lancelot said to the women on his sides. "There's a large number of lonely men out there."

Rhyne and Guinevere smirked. Without hesitation or looking at one another, they replied at the same time. "Don't worry, we won't let them rape you." His eyes widened, and it took all their strength not to laugh out loud.

The single arrow they shot skidded onto the ice far from where the knights stood. "I believe they are waiting for an invitation," Arthur said. "Bors! Tristan! Rhyne!"

"They are far out of range," Guinevere said with doubt etched on her face.

Rhyne shook her head as she raised her bow. _Did I teach you nothing, sister?_ The two arrows she released landed in to different Saxons. The leader scowled deeply at them. He waved his hand and the army marched forward, spreading out across the ice. "Aim for the wings of the ranks, make them cluster," Arthur notched an arrow.

They all released at once. In a pure motion the knights fired and loaded, and fired and loaded again. Saxons on each end fell with every launch of arrows. The marksmanship of the line of only nine was stunning, and began to put fear into their enemy. They began to move together, in a large group. The ice below them thundered and cracked. But it wasn't enough.

The more arrows they shot the more Saxons that went down, but nine could not give a dent into a force of 200, no matter how many arrows they had. They needed the lake. The little hope that Rhyne held broke when the ice refused to break way. "It's not going to break!" Arthur despaired. "Draw your swords. Prepare for combat!"

Rhyne dropped her bow and unsheathed the sword at her back. Her vision must have been wrong. It was not just one of them going to die, it was all of them. None would make it off the ice against this many, no matter how great of knights they were. She looked down the line to all her old brothers, her sister, and her lover. This would be their last few moments.

A scream interrupted her thoughts. Dagonet, with an axe in hand ran towards the advancing line of Saxons. "Dag!" Bors yelled in agony over his friend.

"Cover him," Arthur's voice faltered. Rhyne picked up her bow and began firing arrows as fast as she could, when her head pulsed in pain.

A single sword marking a grave flashed before her eyes, and she made a choice. This was why she was here. She took up the roman shield at her feet and ran forward. Her name was called, but Rhyne didn't hear it. All she could think of was her task. She slid onto her knees in front of Dagonet and slammed the end of the shield into the ice so it stood in front of them.

There was nothing else for her to do. She had dropped her bow on the line. A sword was no good from this far away. Dagonet kept pounding away onto the ice. Rhyne looked up at the sky. Only fire could defeat ice. She raised her arms, kept her eyes on the clouds and began to invoke the elements:

_Air, Fire, Water, Earth_

_Elements of Astral birth_

_I call you now; attend to me!_

_In the circle, rightly cast_

_Safe from psychic curse or blast_

_I call you now; attend to me!_

_From cave and desert, sea and hill_

_By wand, blade, cup and pentacle_

_I call you now; attend to me!_

_This is my will; so mote it be!_

_This is my will; so mote it be…_

Rhyne continued to repeat the last line, reaching her soul out to the sky. A hole in the clouds began to open. The sun shined through. But not a normal sun. It continued to get brighter, and brighter over the Saxon force. The shield toppled over in the melting ice, exposing her. Rhyne's shoulder got hit with an arrow bolt. She fell onto her back in pain. The light dimmed and Dagonet got hit behind her on the side. He faltered as fell beside her.

Rhyne looked to the sky. The light shined again. It blinded the enemy. A thundering crack was heard as the ice began to quake beneath them. They needed to move. She turned to tell Dagonet, but it was too late. A crack beneath them erupted and they fell under. A thousand knives struck all over her body. She was ready to give up, to die. But something was holding her up. She could suddenly breathe again. She let air fill her lungs thankfully. She was pulled out of the water and laid on the ice. Shivers racked her body. Her vision was blurred. Something was laid over her. A cloak. Muffled voices her around her. That last thing she remembered before passing out, was being picked up into someone's arms.

Rhyne woke with the ground steady beneath her. She sat up with a gasp, remembering the water. A hand tried to push her down, but she batted it away. Rhyne kept struggling against the hands until they grabbed her face and another face was in front of her. "Rhyne! Stop! Your are out of the water!" Guinevere. Rhyne's heart slowed gently. Her breathing steadied and her vision finally cleared. She was sitting next to a fire. Her wet tunic was removed. The knights were on the other side of the fire. "Rhyne, sit still so I can finish your wound."

Rhyne had her tunic off, wearing just her breast band, a cloak wrapped around her, except her shoulder, which Guinevere was busy stitching. She winced every few times she got poked with the needle. Tristan was busy stitching Dagonet's few arrow wounds. His skin was still cold, not matter how many blankets were put on him. He was still conscious, but barely. The knights were on the opposite side of the fire. They were weary of Rhyne and Guinevere, after what she mumbled earlier on the ice after being pulled from the water. Arthur would not stop glaring at them. When he finally decided to speak as Guinevere tied off the stitches and began helping Rhyne into her tunic.

"What did he do to you?" Arthur asked. All eyes turned to him. None but two knew what he meant.

"Nothing," Rhyne said simply.

"He did something," Arthur forced.

"Who are we talking about?" Rhyne eyed him. "Marius or Merlin?"

By this time all the knights were utterly confused. "Marius has nothing to do with this."

"Oh, but he does. He has a lot to do with it in fact," Rhyne said. "But you meant Merlin, didn't you?"

"He's persuaded you in some way, and now you are one of them," he pointed.

The knights looked between Rhyne and Arthur. "Them?" Bors questioned.

"Yes, them. She is under Merlin's order. He sent her to destroy us."

"Merlin has never wished to destroy you Arthur!" Rhyne defended. "Did you hear nothing he told you that night?"

"What night?" Lancelot asked. "What is going on?" he threw his hands up.

"While in the woods, Merlin came to me. Rhyne stood beside him." The knights looked incredulously in Rhyne's direction. "That is why they call each other sister."

Rhyne gazed over the looks of the knights. None quite believing what they were hearing. "It's not true," Bors said. "Tell me it's not true."

"Oh, it is," Rhyne said casually. "I have been with Merlin for 14 years. He saved my life in more ways than one."

"He bewitched you!" Arthur screamed. "So you could come back here and kill us all!"

"Do you really believe that?" Rhyne eyed him. "If I wished it, you all would already be dead. But Merlin never wished that. He did what he had to, to protect his people and his country."

"His country?" Galahad said. "This country belongs to Rome."

"You see," Rhyne stood. "That is your problem. You have no vision. Rome really has made you slaves. The strongest men I ever knew."

"We were born to be slaves," Lancelot said in a low growl.

"You don't have to," Guinevere joined the argument now. "I am no slave of Rome."

"That is why you were down in that cell for who knows how long," Gawain spat, "isn't it?"

"They may take my body, as many times as they wish, but it is the soul that matters," Guinevere explained. "And they shall never have it. I am free. Far too free to ever give in." That phrase they had heard before. Sparrow had used it to describe Rhyne. Now they understood why.

"You don't have to be the dogs of Rome," Rhyne continued. "I refused to give them what they wanted! What he wanted!" She pointed to the cart Marius and his family lay in.

"What has Marius got to do with this?" Arthur asked utterly confused.

"Who do you think I was sold to?" Rhyne breathed, hating to have to live this again to tell the story. The knight's mouths gaped and eyes widened. "Him and his sadistic brother." Tristan stopped looking after Dagonet and looked at her for the first time since she awoke. "Why do you think he and the Bishop are so afraid of me? They fear my revenge, and they know its coming."

"What did they do to you?" Tristan snarled.

Rhyne closed her eyes tightly and sat down once more. "Conner…" she said softly. She now had their entire attention. "He was a slave of Marius, as well. We became very great friends. And he was punished for that, for being close to me."

"How so?"

Rhyne was not exactly sure who asked it. All their voices were blended together now. She only focused on the words. Hawk could sense her despair, and he laid in his head in her lap for comfort. Rhyne gave a small smile and began to stroke his fur. "I was tied up and forced to watch him die slowly, because I refused to give them my body," she said strongly. "I kept fighting, and kept renouncing their God. I would not give up my soul. And it angered them, because no one ever fought." A few tears ran down her cheek.

"Then—Sparrow?" Lancelot wavered.

"Her father?" They all nodded. "Do I really need to say it?" she stared back at them.

"The work of your God," Lancelot snarled to Arthur.

Their teeth clenched as they realized the truth, one by one. Tristan didn't move, but continued to look at the ground. "And Merlin," Arthur said. "How do you explain that?"

"Like I said before, he saved my life, and my daughter's," she said quickly. She made eye contact with Tristan. She had told him, and now he fully understood. Sparrow is a rape child, and Rhyne could hardly bare that fact after her daughter was born.

"And how is that?" Arthur demanded.

"You would rather not know," Rhyne said passively. It was what she hated talking about more than anything. It is the real monster inside, and it absolutely terrified her.

"So what brought you back? After all these years. Why now?" Lancelot wondered.

Rhyne could no longer look them in the eye. The history of the past fourteen years was everything dark in her soul. To speak of it made her relive the memories, and to relive them, made her anger surface. "Gareth," she whispered.

Gawain and Galahad snapped their heads to her like lightning. That name held a sore spot. Gawain's little brother and Galahad's best friend. "What about him?" Galahad said darkly.

"A few years ago I had my first vision," Rhyne reluctantly began. "But I was too confused about what I was seeing."

"What are you talking about?" Arthur began pacing again.

"Gareth… I saw it happen before it did. I saw the future." Everything went still. Gareth was the last knight who fell within their ranks. His death was a sore spot still for everyone. And the fact of how he died in particular. Rhyne closed her eyes. The memory was still too fresh…

_Rhyne failed to paint herself before she left. Only grabbed a black cloak that hid her face well. She jumped onto Zyfer's back and galloped into the dark forest._

_It didn't take for her to get there. Bodies were lying everywhere. "No," her heart dropped. She was too late. Rhyne knelt down and examined one. A Woad. She shook her head. No Woads were ordered for this attack. They must be rogue. But Woads always took back their dead for the ceremony. They left no one behind. _

_But then she took a closer look. Rhyne noticed the imperfect precision of the leg and arm tattoos. They were not really Briton designs. These weren't Woads. She stood and pulled out an arrow from a nearby tree. It was not British made either. A very poor job. The Woads were framed. _

_Rhyne heard a groan nearby. A body moved within the pile. Rhyne rushed over next to him. It was Gareth. Three arrows were protruding from his stomach. Tears began sliding down her cheeks. "Gareth," she said fiercely, kneeling beside him. _

_He glanced at who was above him and smiled with difficulty. "Rhyne," he hissed hardly believing the sight before him. "You came…back…to me…," he coughed. Blood trickled from his mouth. _

"_Gareth," She took his hand and wiped the blood from his face. "I came too late." More tears fell. "I'm sorry I was not here for you. That I did not return." _

"_Arthur's God has sent me an Angel," he joked. Another fit of coughs came. More blood spurted out. His body clinched in pain. "You have…to finish it, Rhyne. Please…finish it."_

_Rhyne shook her head wildly. "No. I can save you. Fight. You have to fight it, Gareth!" she sobbed. _

"_I will never leave your side," he groaned. "We never…forgot you…my old…friend." He began choking. "Do it…do it…"_

_Rhyne closed her eyes and asked forgiveness for what she was about to do. It would be something that would forever leave a scar on her soul. It would always haunt her dreams. She nodded, paying no attention to the coming horses. Rhyne kissed her thumb and forefinger, brought them to her forehead and drew closer to Gareth's face. "Be at peace, my brother." She kissed his forehead. "Goodbye, my friend." The horsemen rode up to the scene just as she raised her sword and impaled his heart. _

_Sobs racked her body as suddenly entered her left shoulder. She doubled over with a cry. 7 men mounted on horses had arrived. She got on her feet and barreled herself towards Zyfer in the trees. The horse met her half way and circled her, taking the knight's next arrow in his own shoulder. Rhyne leapt onto his back and they were off. She was never caught… _

Rhyne's eyes opened slowly and she exhaled, not realizing her breath was being held. "I could have saved him, but I was too late….the cloaked figure standing over him when you arrived," she hesitated a moment then went on, "that was me. He asked me to end it, and I gave him his wish."

"You killed him!" Gawain stood abruptly. Galahad's face was in his hands. He was unsure of how to handle the truth. They all were. Arthur showed only utter shock. Lancelot was staring into the fire, while Tristan was the only one still looking in her direction.

"Do you really believe that?" Rhyne boldly got to her feet. "Maybe it was me the whole time wanting you dead one by one," she waved her arms. Gawain came forward and punched her cheek. Rhyne's head whipped to the side with no sound. Lancelot and Tristan stood immediately and pulled a struggling Gawain away from her before he could do anything more.

"Let me go!"

"Calm down!" Lancelot pushed him back. "Enough!" Gawain was fuming.

Rhyne faced them again. Hair curtained her features. She brushed back her hair revealing a dribble of blood on the corner of her mouth. She wiped it passively. "Why can't you understand? A piece of parchment can not decipher your fate. Because you are already free, and always have been. You just need to act like it. Only then could you accept my actions." Rhyne stormed into the darkness of the woods. Guinevere sneered at them all and began to follow her.

"Tell us she is telling the truth," Arthur asked her. "Tell us her torture was true."

Guinevere face grew even more fierce. "I shouldn't have to. But I will tell you this," she turned back to them. "After all her suffering, and all the desolation on her soul, all she ever thought of, was you. All of you. It was the only thing that ever made her smile. You just remember that as you accuse her of betraying you." Guinevere turned and followed Rhyne's path.

**So…..how did you like it? If there is any chapter that I would like reviewed it is this one. I do hope it was not horrible…and now you know what Conner, Marius and the Bishop have to do with everything…thought, I'm you might have figured out Marius and the Bishop a long while ago…but the secret is finally revealed … Conner…we will meet him in another chapter to come. Well, not really meet him persay…you will just have to read and find out…I will probably be my favorite chapter that one, and it will be soon….hopefully. **

**And if you can not remember what Merlin does to save Rhyne's life and Sparrow it is in one of the earlier chapters. Rhyne tells it to Tris in Chapter 14, near the end. **


	28. Queen of the Novantae

**Sorry it took me forever to get this chapter up. I have had writer's block on it. But now that this one is finished it will not take very long for the rest to be written. The story is almost done. I have five or six more chapters after this one, or somewhere like that. I know this is somewhat short, but the next will be up soon. I have it almost done. I may do one a week or something. My spring break is almost here and I hope to have the whole story done by then. Thanks to the readers who have stuck with me since you read my first chapter this time last year. I am almost done, and the next few stories will begin. **

**Hope you like it. **

Justice Will Rhyne

Chapter Twenty-Eight-Queen of the Novantae

The sun rose. Dagonet was placed in the back of the cart. As Rhyne was saddling Zyfer, she watched as Guinevere began climbing into the cart, Bors stalked by and pulled her out. His presence and actions took her by surprise as she fell to the ground. She was still weak, despite her demeanor. Bors glared steadily at her and marched away. He caught Rhyne's passive stare. He made a move towards her. Rhyne squared up to him, setting her hand on her dagger. Hawk growled.

"Bors!" a voice called. Arthur had been watching the scene. "Check the villagers," he commanded to his knight. Bors took a long look at Rhyne before obeying. Arthur gazed at his long time friend, his sister, before he too walked away. She saw the ease of his walk as he held his arm close to his right side. She would ask him about it later.

With a disgruntled sneer, Guinevere walked away, and a few moments later, had an unsaddled horse in tow. She had always preferred to go bareback. Though, Rhyne was much better with her riding skills than her sister. Sarmatian Blood. "They no longer trust us," she growled.

"There is no reason why they should," Rhyne sighed. "We did deceive them after all."

"But are you not-"

"Angry," Rhyne cut her off. "Of course. But we can not judge them on their ignorance of the situation."

Guinevere took a hop and slid on the horse's back with graceful ease. "They are too stubborn. All of them."

Rhyne snorted. "Stubborn. That is an understatement. We must be patient." Guinevere scowled. "Oh, sister, I do know that is not one of your stronger traits, like most warriors."

"So what? You are the exception to the rule."

"Oh no," Rhyne smiled mounting Zyfer. "I have absolutely no patience. I just hide it well." Guinevere slapped her playfully as the caravan began moving once more.

"It is just over this hill," Rhyne said with relief to Guinevere who rode next to her. The knights were lined up at the peak ahead of them. The two women passed without a second glance. Seven pairs of eyes followed their smiling features. "Everything you thought it would be?" Rhyne asked with a smile.

Guinevere cocked her head back and forth. "Somewhat. Thought it would be taller."

"We are not close enough to it yet." Rhyne sighed with relief. The mission had been accomplished. Both the knight's and the first step of her own. Two deaths of the knights remained for her to prevent. Her task had still only begun. The worst had yet to come. The gates began to open in welcoming. Upon entering the knights would be heroes once more, and finally, after fifteen years, given their freedom from Rome.

The faces of the knights were somber upon crossing into the fort. The missing rider among the knights led the gathering villagers to the conclusion. As their own stables came into view, Rhyne trotted Zyfer straight into his stall. Guinevere into the one next to her. Stable boys came to their assistance immediately. For once, Rhyne wished not to groom Zyfer herself.

Purposefully dodging the knight's freedom ceremony, she led Guinevere out the side door of the stables. Vanora was on her way down the street, her whole brood following. Rhyne smiled in greeting, but is soon faded as she noticed her friend's grim expression. "What's wrong?" she demanded. Vanora was struggling with words. She didn't need to say anything. "No," Rhyne whispered.

The look in her eye told her everything. Rhyne ran, as fast as she could. Guinevere following on her heels. She paid no attention to the villagers she past, welcoming her back home. Taking the steps two at a time, she came to the door of the medical room, stopping in front of it. Hesitating a moment, fearing what she knew she would already see behind it, and slowly pushed it open.

Sparrow was laying in the bed furthest from the door, in the back corner, her back to the door. Furs were tucked up to her chin. Her hair sprawled and knotted around her. Her breathing was slow and slightly struggled. "Sparrow?" Rhyne whispered.

The young warrior's head turned slightly to the door. "Mother…you're back." Rhyne closed her eyes in fury at the bruises over Sparrow's lips. "Is everyone…safe?"

Rhyne swallowed. "Yes, we are all here. Dagonet fell through the ice, but will be alright." She began to walk forward. "Guinevere is here, with me."

Sparrow turned toward them more, and her whole face became visible. "Gwen..." A bite mark was punctured around her bottom lip, covered in purple and blue bruises. She had a left black eye that she couldn't fully open and a cut on her right cheek from a dagger. More bite marks traveled down her neck, and as the fur fell below one shoulder, it revealed a massively deep bite that would leave a permanent scar. Rhyne cursed herself. Sparrow opened her mouth to speak, and then closed it again, looking down in shame.

Rhyne rushed to her side. "No, no, baby, don't," she sat beside her. Guinevere sat on her other side. "I know it's easy, but you mustn't feel sorry for yourself." Rhyne pushed Sparrow's chin up. "You mustn't feel ashamed. It's not your fault this happened. Let us see." Sparrow nodded reluctantly. Rhyne pulled furs totally off her body. She was wearing only a short legged shift. Her wrists and ankles held ghastly rope burns and rings of purple and red. Her body covered in bites, small dagger cuts and bruises. The worst was the inside of her thighs. The skin was rubbed raw. Scabs covered the red skin, as it was covered and outlined with deep colored bruises. "I'm sorry, Sparrow. This is my fault," Rhyne whispered fiercely.

"Rhyne," Guinevere interrupted immediately. "It's not you fault! You didn't do this to her!"

"I did! I threatened him! I told I was going to kill him!" Rhyne said crossly to Guinevere.

"He did this for revenge," Sparrow said. They other women looked to her. "He told me. He did it to get back you, just before he left the room and…let them…" she trailed off at a squeak. A few tears trailed down her cheeks.

"Shh…it will be alright, in time." Rhyne kissed her forehead gently. "Babe, this is going to make you stronger than you can possibly know."

"How would you know that?" Sparrow began to cry fully. "How can you say that?"

Rhyne looked to Guinevere for a long moment. "You have to tell her, Rhyne."

"Tell me what?" Sparrow sniffled.

Rhyne opened her mouth to speak when the door opened. All three turned to look on those who were entering. Carried by two of his mercenaries, and led by one of the Roman healers, was Marius sitting in a chair, howling in pain. "Sit him down there," the healer pointed to the bed beside Sparrow.

Rhyne drew her sword. "No, don't sit him there," she ordered.

"There is no more room. I need one of these beds," the roman healer pointed out.

"I suggest if you do not want him dead then you will get him out of here now?" Rhyne growled. The grip on her sword tightened.

"Mother, who is this?" Sparrow asked interested.

"Mother?" Marius stopped screaming a moment. "This is…" he gawked followed by a laugh. "By Mary. This is the child."

"Mother what are they talking about?" Sparrow spoke up.

"Nothing," Rhyne said flatly, without movement.

"You mean she doesn't know," Marius cooed.

"I don't know what?" Sparrow began to yell.

"Nothing," Rhyne repeated.

"Darling, Rhyne. I thought you better than that." Marius said. He looked to the girl. "Sparrow is it?"

"Don't you talk to her!" Rhyne took a step forward. A warning.

"She never told you who your father was…" He clearly believed Rhyne to be passing empty threats.

"Yes she did. He saved her life," Sparrow said proudly.

He was confused a moment. "Connor? She told you Conner…"

Rhyne's eyes flashed as they have only a few times before. "Don't you ever speak his name again or else I will cut your voice from your throat," she snarled. Marius finally took her seriously and swallowed. Rhyne leaned forward on the arms of his chair so their faces were mere inches away. "And if you so much as look at her in a way I don't like…I will kill you slowly, and very painfully. Is that clear?" He nodded quickly. "Good." She stood her full height glancing down on him like a rat, before she turned to the healer. "I don't care where else you have to take him, just not here."

They were out so quick they forgot to shut the door behind them. Rhyne took a step to go and close it, but Sparrow's voice stopped her. "Mother…what's going on?"

Rhyne's shoulders dropped. She carried the weight of the world. It seemed it took hours to sit down on the bed again and put her daughter's hand in hers. Rhyne opened her mouth a few times, wondering how to begin. She looked into her tearing eyes and spoke. "Sparrow, I-I haven't…I haven't told you the full truth about your father."

"My father?"

"Yes, um…the reason I know what you're going through…is because…I, uh…I was raped as a slave," she finally blurted.

Sparrow looked around the room moments before total understanding kicked in. "You mean I…I'm…"

"Yes." Rhyne paused, trying to push back the tears. "Conner protected me from Marius, and it got him killed. He-" Rhyne clinched her eyes shut. "He was murdered in front of me." Tears fell down her cheeks. Sparrow did likewise. "And I gave up. All the fight that was in me, had diminished to nothing. I didn't care what happened to me after that. And I just let them…" she lost her voice. She couldn't continue.

"What made you find hope again…how did you get over this?" Sparrow asked.

Rhyne looked deep into her daughter's eyes. How could she tell her the truth? How? Rhyne smiled thoughtfully. "You did, Sparrow. You saved me."

Guinevere looked pointedly to Rhyne for a second and then softened. "It's true," she added. "I was there. You should have seen how she looked at you after you were born. The light in her eyes was bright again. Well, brighter than they had been."

Rhyne laughed lightly and passed Guinevere a grateful look. "Don't worry, Sparrow. You are going to be just fine. It's going to take a long while before you feel safe to be with someone again, but you'll get there. Your dreams may be haunted, and you may look over your shoulder a bit," Rhyne explained. Sparrow nodded while sobs began again. "But you're going to be stronger in the end. Shame will turn to sorrow. Sorrow will turn to fear. And fear will become great anger. If there's anything I was grateful for, it was the anger it gave me. It gave me the strength I hold now. Soon you will be fearless." Sparrow laid her head in her mother's lap and cried. Her body racked in tears. It made every inch burn with pain. But her heart hurt the most. "Shh, you're going to be okay."

Sparrow shook her head. "No, I never will."

"What are you saying?" Guinevere combed the hair out of Sparrow's face. "You're strong. You'll pull out of this. You'll be the fear of all men soon enough."

Sparrow shook her head viciously again, and sat back up. "Mama," her voice broke. "I was with child." New hot tears flowed down her cheeks in floods.

Rhyne couldn't breath. It was an arrow to the heart. The room got smaller and smaller. The whole world came crashing down on top of her. Her voice was gone. All she could do was take Sparrow into her arms, and hug her intensely, and cry with her. When she finally was able to speak, she took Sparrow's face in her hands. "Listen to me, Sparrow. Have you bled?" The young warrior shook her head. "Then there may still be hope. Don't give up. After all the abuse on me, you survived. Our blood survives, Sparrow. You are the Princess of the Novantae. We do not give up so easily. Don't loose hope like I did. Do you hear me?" Sparrow shook her head again. "Shh…" Rhyne rubbed her back gently as her daughter laid her head in her lap again. Guinevere began chanting an old Druid blessing.

Sparrow's sobs slowed until only breathing remained. Sparrow sat up and rubbed her cheeks dry. She took a deep breath and gave Guinevere a hug. "I didn't say hi." They both sniggered a little. "How's Lance?"

"I'm fine," a voice came from the open door. Lancelot, still in his armor was leaning against the open doorway. "Lancelot is fine."

Sparrow turned away from him immediately and began to shake. Rhyne looked at Guinevere. It was time for them to leave. Rhyne gave Sparrow a kiss on the top of her head and they both headed for the door. Rhyne laid her hand on Lancelot's shoulder before making her way down the hall to her own room. She really needed a bath.

Lancelot closed the door gently. "A child, Sparrow," he began immediately. "Why didn't you tell me?" Sparrow refused to look at him. "Sparrow," he sat where Rhyne just previously occupied. "Please look at me. Love," he whispered gently. He reached for her, and Sparrow shuffled away. Lancelot recoiled, hurt. "Talk to me please." They were silent a moment. "I'm sorry I wasn't here."

"It's not your fault," she finally spoke.

He glanced over the part of her body he could see. The bite mark on her shoulder. His blood boiled. She obviously was in immense pain. "Who did this to you?" Sparrow shook her head. "Tell me."

"No."

"Sparrow," his voice went stern.

"No."

Lancelot stood up in a fury. "Look at me!" he yelled. Her body flinched violently. Lancelot stared at her for another moment longer before making for the door and slamming is shut on his way out. Sparrow lay back down and cried herself to sleep.

Rhyne sat in the lavender oil scented water, motionless. The events of her life before Merlin flashing before her, as if she were living them again. She swept her fingers over a scar on her left shoulder. Where Tristan's own arrow entered as she knelt over Gareth's dead body. A memory that would haunt more than any other. The death of a knight by her own hand. She leaned back, her neck on the edge of the tub and closed her eyes…

_Smoke covered the field. Nine stood on Badon Hill. The wind whipped through their standards. Her hair flowed smoothly. The dragon head standard she held screamed. It will soon be the voices of their enemies. The white dragon on her chest glowed like a light through the fire and smoke. Her eyes burnt red against the blue paint. _

_Her hair braided in the way of a Queen. Four rows of braids straight back on the top of her head. The rest lay flat with a few braids hanging down. The red Raven of Power painted on her forehead. The symbol of the Novantae…"And let history remember, that as free men, we chose to make it so!" They thrust all their swords in the air in vengeance…She circled the Saxon Leader. "You are going to regret everyday you spent on this island."_

"_It will be hard, when I sit on the throne." He looked her up and down. "You dress yourself like a Queen."_

"_I am a Queen."_

"_Well then, I do need a Queen by my side do I not? You will fit perfectly in chains."_

"_You will never make it off this field." Their swords crossed…_

Rhyne woke with a gasp. She was still in the tub. Water sloshed side to side, some spilling over the side. She took deep breaths. She wasn't sure if she should count that as a vision or just a dream. She put her hands over her face until her breathing was normal again and dunked herself under the now cold water.

Rhyne walked like a ghost up into the cemetery. The sun was still well above the horizon. She could feel the Saxons getting closer with each passing moment. They would be here by nightfall tomorrow. Rhyne knelt in front of her father's grave. She picked some grass from the mound and threw it up in the breeze. She watched it disappear above the trees. She filled the cup below the sword with wine, brought out two pieces of flint and lit the drink afire.

"Father, I don't think I can do this anymore. I just continue to hurt the ones I love most. What can I do? I don't think I can stop what will come."

She sat there in silence for a moment before a great wind picked up, almost knocking for over. A pleasant humming filled her ears. A voice overpowered her senses. "Our blood survives." It was her mother. "You are a Queen of the Novantae. We do not give up so easily." It was stern and commanding.

"Yes Mother," Rhyne replied instinctively, a warrior answering her Queen.

"The raven is the eyes of the Goddess on Earth. The warriors marked with the Raven of Power are her messengers. The Novantae are marked with a raven. We are Her hands. Act like it. Act like a Queen."

And suddenly the voice and the wind were gone. The earth around her was still. No breeze, no birds. Like it was all another dream. Perhaps it was. She looked back down on her father's grave with a new air about her. She held her head high and rolled her shoulders back. Rhyne felt a familiar presence approach.

"Did you ever plan to tell me the truth?"

Rhyne remained still. "Yes. I planned to tell you just as I did."

"I meant about Sparrow and you. How it happened…"

Rhyne didn't say anything for a long time. "I hoped I never had to. But it didn't happen that way."

"It wouldn't have made a difference to me."

"Yet we stand here, as if miles away from each other."

"You lied to us. You lied to me."

"Did the truth make you feel better?" She stood and faced him harshly. "Are you happier now that you know it?"

"Why all the deception?"

"I did what I thought was right," Rhyne leveled with him. Tristan opened his mouth to speak again, but Rhyne spoke first. "No! I want to hear no more of this _knight_," she emphasized on his rank. "There are more important things happening here than you and me. I am a British Queen, and you will not question me like this, again. Now let me pass."

Tristan didn't know what to say. There was nothing to say. She had changed in the last three days, changed into someone he didn't know and didn't understand. He looked her in the eye, and she did right back. The fire that surfaced only a few times was now there permanently. He stepped aside, and she walked passed him, never looking back. "One more question," he turned the direction she walked.

Rhyne stopped, keeping her back to him. "What?"

"Did you love him? Connor, I mean. Did you love him?"

Rhyne stayed completely still for a moment before only turning her head over her shoulder. "Yes, I did love him," and she made her way back inside the gates.


	29. Deep Breath Before the Plunge

**Discalimer: everyone knows it...**

**I am so sorry guys it took me this long...I really am. I not making an excuses but this summer has been nothing but a big headache. I am taking a creative writing class. I have moved three times and my parents were going through a divorce the same time my older brother is getting married...and then two weeks ago, my laptop breaks and I have to send it in to Dell and all that BS! **

**I would have had this chapter up a few weeks ago if it wasn't for that. In fact, if it wasn't for moving I would have had it up a long time ago because we had our Internet shut off, so I have to go to school to get one and everything. It's been a nightmare. I am kind of relieved school is starting soon...**

**Anyway...I hope this chapter is worth it for the long wait. I know for a fact I won't have the next chapter up next week because my last summer class is on Wen. and I have to get my screenplay up to a certain point. But it will be up not long after that...**

**Bare with me here...**

**I will thank you all individually later...I didn't have the time right now, and I'm just so exited to just finally get this chapter done...**

Justice Will Rhyne

Chapter Twenty-Nine-Deep Breath Before the Plunge

Rhyne walked down into the armory, below the stables. Generations of armor and weapons from each knight that died in the service of Rome, including her father. Bows, broadswords, short swords, twin swords, spears, shields, daggers, eastern swords like Tristan's, British weapons and plenty of armor suits. The dream house of a warrior.

Drawers lined the walls, with names written on them. Each drawer was selected for a knight of particular bravery and legend. She found the one with her father's name. It was empty, as she expected. She went to close it when she froze, and looked back down inside the drawer. A little hole, just big enough to stick your smallest finger in was in one of the corners. She tilted her head in question.

Rhyne stuck a finger in the hole and slowly pulled up. The flooring of the drawer lifted with her finger. A secret compartment. In it, a small flat box covered in years of dust. She grabbed the box and closed the drawer with her hip. Whatever it was, she only felt safe opening it within the confinement of her room.

She moved that way quickly, acknowledging no one she passed. She closed the locked her door behind her, gently setting the box on her bed. With a slight hesitation, she opened the lid of the box. Two items. Her mouth opened in shock and awe. Rhyne thought these things had been lost or stolen, but someone had hidden them away, for her to one day find.

The first she picked up was a bracelet made of a black stone. A full ring. Engraved on it, a dragon. It was not just any bracelet. It was one worn only by chieftains of her father's tribe. But he had never told her he was Chieftain. She slipped it over her hand quite easily.

The second item left her staring, for a long time. She clinched her eyes shut. Rhyne reached out touch the only pointed peak on the silver crown. No jewels, only an engraving of a Novantaen saying and an emblem of a red raven. The Raven of Power. She felt it through her fingers, and up her arm, to the very core of her soul. She traced the words. _Those that wear the Raven of Power, become the messengers of the Goddess_.

Rhyne took the crown carefully from the box and stood in front of the mirror. Lifting it up, she gently set it over her head, where it sat just above her brow. It changed her, within those few seconds. She was no longer a lost soul, but a Queen. A messenger. Rhyne slipped off the crown and set it back in the box. As she closed the lid to the box, raised voices came from down below in her window. She slid the box under the furs of her bed and looked out the window. It was Arthur, confronting the Bishop. Rhyne ran out of her room.

Arthur put his sword to the Bishop's throat. "What did he do to deserve death? Everything he ever did was for the glory of Rome."

"Pagans equal with Christians," the Bishop protested. "That is not glory! That is heresy! Blasphemy! Consider yourself lucky that you are in the Popes good graces! You would be killed too! These pagans are below the dirt under our feet!" He said pointing to the arriving knights.

Arthur pushed his sword harder against the Bishop's skin. "Those are my men, and my brothers! Choose your words carefully, Germanus, for they may be your last," Arthur snarled. A small crowd began to gather. Rhyne saw Guinevere push her way forward, along with many of the villagers they had rescued from the estate, and Marius himself, being carried in a chair again. A small smile crept on Rhyne's lips for a moment, before it disappeared and she too began pushing through the crowd.

"No, Arthur!" Rhyne entered, pushing Excalibur from the bishop's neck. "His blood isn't worth the honor of that sword." The Bishop tried to move away but Rhyne put her own sword point in the same spot that Arthur's recently occupied. "It is too easy. He deserves something much, much worse. And I will be there to see it." Rhyne eyed him with a viciousness she has only shown a few times in her life. The first time since their arrival back to the fort, standing face to face. She could smell his fear.

"What did you think it would accomplish, or did you simply do it just to spite me? Which is it?" she spat.

"What are you talking about, Rhyne?" Arthur stood there confused.

"Sparrow was raped," Lancelot said softly beside him. Arthur shook his head in shame.

"It's not your fault, Arthur, nor is it your God's," Rhyne said without looking away from the Bishop. "Doing it to me is one thing, Bishop, but to her, that is quite another. Did you expect it to break her because you and Marius failed with me?" Rhyne could see him gaining all the strength he could muster.

"Because pagans whores like you, don't deserve to live on this Earth," he said with surprising force.

She took a long deep breath, to stop from killing him right there. "May your God and mine forgive you, for I definitely will not. And I swear to you, before this is over, you will die by my hand, just as Marius will." Rhyne sheathed her sword and turned to walk away, but then changed her mind. She whipped around back to him and punched him square in the face. Gasps ran through the crowd along side many cheers, some from the knights. Germanus landed flat on his back, clutching his now bleeding nose in his hands. "I would pray for forgiveness soon, before your time runs out," Rhyne loomed over him. She looked in the direction of Marius. "Same for you."

The moon was high overhead. Rhyne sat on the edge of her bed, staring out the window. Her stomach was empty, but she couldn't eat. Her eyes were tired, but she couldn't sleep. The battle of her life lay before her. But more than just her life was at stake. In fact, it wasn't about her at all. It was about their existence, and the existence of their children. If they were to lose to the Saxons, their way of life will be gone forever. The Romans have already destroyed it enough. And without Arthur, there was no hope for them. Jamari had told her the knights decided to leave after two days, now, close to only one. And Arthur with them, to Rome, to a dead end path. And everything, all of it relied on her, whether she can get him to realize his true destiny.

Rhyne stood and slung her bow and quiver of arrows over her shoulder. She walked with a purpose out to the practice area beside the Knight's stables. 100 feet from the target, she loaded her first arrow, aimed, and fired. A few inches off. She scowled. She fired again. Further off. Rhyne growled low with anger. Taking quick steps toward the target, she loaded and fired arrow after arrow. Closer and closer, until three in a row hit the target and she was 30 feet away.

She lowered her bow with a deep breath. She would need to be better than that. She looked at Hawk who raised his head from his laying position with a whine. "Don't worry Little Brother. I'll be ready. But hopefully not alone." Rhyne heard footsteps behind her. In one swift motion she spun, loaded her bow and released. The arrowhead was imbedded into the post Arthur was leaning on. He jumped a little, stepping away from the post. Hawk growled. Arthur looked at the arrow, then back at her. He showed a shy smile. The first in a week. Rhyne smiled as well. "You know," he shook his head. "There are only two people I know that can do that. You and Tristan."

The smile disappeared off her face, into a stoic mask. "He taught me." They were silent for a moment, looking everywhere but at each other. "I saw you and Guinevere, in the graveyard, before your father's grave. What did she say?"

Arthur stared her straight in the eye. "That we are blessed and cursed by our times. That I am like this country. Britons with a Roman father."

Rhyne nodded. "Rome is father to us all. And we are blessed for the time we are given here. It's a gift. But no matter who it is you worship or believe in or pray for thanks or help, there is only one way to pay them back."

"How's that?"

"To live your life in the best way that you can," Rhyne began stepping closer to him. "And you have done that Arthur, but now you have another choice to make. Will you go to Rome to fight a losing battle and die an old man, meaningless and alone? Or will you stay here, fight in the battle of your life and free an entire country? You are already a hero Arthur. You and your knights." Rhyne took a deep breath and paused for a moment. "And now you have a chance to become a legend. People thousands of years after us will be whispering your name, the things that you and your knights have done. Nothing is greater than that, to never be forgotten is to never die."

Rhyne violently pulls out the arrow from the post beside them and shoves it back into her quiver. "Your destiny is out there waiting for you," she points to the North wall.

Arthur leans his arms on the fence in front of him and sets his face in his hands. "What should I do?"

"I can't tell you what to do Arthur. I've only shown you the door. You are the one who has to decide whether to walk through it." Rhyne lays a comforting hand on his arm. "The Saxons can be beaten. Arthur, you took their will on that ice."

"I did not do it alone," said despairingly.

"With Six knights! Six knights against two hundred Saxons!"

"Now I am close to only having five."

"And what if you had more than five. What if you had _hundreds_…?" Arthur picked up his head. Rhyne nodded. "Back to your old days of glory. When your table was full and all were young." Rhyne softened her voice. "That can be again, if only you would choose it."

They were silent for a long while. Rhyne walked over and pulled all her arrows out of the target. She discarded the ones that were broken, and put the salvaged ones back into her quiver. "Guinevere tells me you are a Queen," Arthur said.

Rhyne traced her hand along the wood of her bow, checking for cracks or breaks. "Queen to a dead tribe. Merlin says there are very few Novantae left."

"But a Queen nonetheless."

Rhyne checked the flex of the bowstring before leaning both the bow and the quiver against the fence, along with herself. "I have to ask you something, Arthur." He nodded for her to continue. "I'm sorry if I deceived you. Will you forgive me?"

Arthur shook his head. "There is nothing to forgive. You did what you thought was right. You are doing what you must. Any of us would have done the same." He offered her his hand. A hand of friendship. She smiled and took it. Brother and sister once more.

Rhyne was on the practice field again the next morning. She and Guinevere crossed swords again. Rhyne parried Guinevere's backhand slash and gave her own. The morning sun left sweat on their brows and mud on the ground, melting the last few days of snow. They lunged at each other at once, swords in between them. "Where did you sleep last night?" Rhyne asked with teeth clenched. They pushed away from each other.

"In the bed next to Sparrow."

"What," Rhyne smiled. "You couldn't find a warmer one?" She laughed at Guinevere's demoralized face. "Oh come on, I have seen the way he looks at you." Guinevere takes a huge swing at Rhyne who ducks swiftly with a spin. She switches sword hands mid spin, standing and sets her blade on Guinevere's exposed back. "Emotion on the battlefield always left your back open," Rhyne said breathing hard.

Guinevere nodded in defeated agreement. Rhyne took a step back and lowered her weapon. They nodded to each other in respect. "You think we are ready?" the Woad Princess asked gravely.

Rhyne sheathed her sword and took a long breath, looking at the clear sky. She shook her head and wiped her brow on her sleeve. "Not without Arthur."

"Why didn't you tell her everything?" Guinevere asked finally.

"Who?" Rhyne tried to fake it.

"Sparrow, and you knew who I meant. We know each other too well, Rhyne. We could never lie to one another," Guinevere forced.

Rhyne sighed. "I told her what she needed to know. I told her the truth, just not the whole story."

"Don't you do to her what you did to the knights. You have to tell her everything."

"I will," Rhyne snapped. "Just not now. Not when she is pregnant and going to have a child. I don't want her to be like me."

"She's your daughter! You have to tell her or she will be just like you when she was born."

"It's Lance's child, Gwen. Not a rape child. There's a difference."

"Is it?" Guinevere forced. "Would you have acted any differently if you knew it was Conner's child? Would it have been any more disgusting when you knew it was born through their filth?"

Rhyne crossed her arms over her chest. "I hate it when you do this..."

Guinevere eased. "Good. Cause I'm the only one who can make you wrong." She looked behind her sister and froze. "Rhyne," she motioned with her sword.

Rhyne turned and was taken aback with the vision of her daughter walking towards them. Wearing trousers and a tunic and her hair wavy free behind her in the gentle breeze with her swords strapped at her back. Her eyes like stone. People she passed looked her up and down, at her cuts and bruises that had gotten no better. But she paid no attention. Sparrow reached them. "Good morning, Mother. Guinevere." Her voice was strong.

Rhyne smiled impressed. "I didn't expect you to be on your feet so soon."

"Well, I am a Princess. I should act like one, right?" Sparrow remarked.

Rhyne put a hand on her shoulder. "Are you sure you're ready to face the world?" she asked gently.

Sparrow looked her straight in the eye. "I really don't have a choice, do I?"

Rhyne hugged her daughter tightly. Sparrow stiffened and winced. Rhyne released her immediately. "I'm sorry." Sparrow nodded her acceptance and unsheathed one of her swords. Rhyne raised her brow. "Are you ready for that?" Sparrow eyed her. Rhyne and Guinevere smile.

Sparrow gets into her ready position. "Do not hold back."

Sparrow was knocked to the ground for what seemed like the hundredth time. "I do believe daughter, that you need a break." Sparrow swiped away dirt beneath her in anger and got up with a huff. "Perhaps if you ate something?" Rhyne suggested.

Sparrow wiped sweat from her brow and sheathed her swords. "I'm going to take a bath," and she walked away.

Sparrow climbed the stairs and saw Vanora coming her direction with Eleven in her arms, Three and Four behind her heels. The infant was screaming and struggling in her arms. "Are you positive you want a child dear? It's a wonderful thought until they are actually here."

Sparrow smiled thoughtfully. "Do you think Vanora you can-"

"There is already a bath ready in there for you, dear."

"Thank you, Vanora. You are an angel." Sparrow entered her room. She could smell he lavender oil in the hot water instantly. She set down her swords and lifted off her tunic. Sparrow sat down on the edge of her bed to untie her boots when the form of a person standing in the corner behind the door caught her attention. She jumped backwards. "By the Gods! Lance! Did you have to scare me like that?"

"Sorry," he mumbled.

Sparrow stared at him a moment before finishing untying her boots. Dirt sprinkled onto the floor. She felt his eyes on her every move. She was still sore and in extreme pain, especially after the work out this afternoon. But she needed to find a way to block it all out for the battle in the morning, or she wouldn't be standing in the end.

"How far along were you?" he asked suddenly. His voice was cold.

"You mean am I...I don't know. Four weeks. Maybe six." She tossed her boots underneath a small table across the room.

"So, you may-"

"Still have it?" Sparrow finished. "Yes. I may. It depends on how much damage was done. The birth will be difficult, if I even live for that long." She began taking her hair out of the braid.

"I'm sorry-"

"Don't apologize," Sparrow interrupted turning towards him. "It wasn't your fault. Don't make it your fault."

"I'm sorry for yelling before." He looked her in the eye. "It didn't help things."

Sparrow turned away from him again. "It's alright."

"No it's not."

"You were shocked and angry, Lance. It's alright." She put two hands on the table, leaning against it.

"Will you still not tell me-"

"No!" she said like a hammer and hitting the table with her fist. "You will not take my revenge for me." She rotated around to him again, more violently. "You don't understand, that's what is keeping me on my feet, or else I would still be huddled in that room." Sparrow collapsed down on the edge of the bed. She stared at the floor.

"Were you going to tell me?"

She nodded. "When you came back," her voice shook. He knew that voice. She was crying, but her hair shielded her face. Her short breaths were followed with hisses of pain. Sparrow closed her eyes and laid back, and inhaled in, then out slowly. A hand gently touched her stomach.

Sparrow flinched and opened her eyes. Lancelot was sitting next to her. His eyes were no longer hard and cold. They were warm again. The eyes she fell in love with. But her body still began to shake. His touch made her alert. And it made her scared. Her body wanted to push him away. Her emotions her winning, but she fought them for as long as she could.

Silent tears streamed down her cheeks as she jolted away from him, to the other side of the bed. Sobs returned. "I'm sorry..." her voice was ladened with moans of desperation and shame. "I'm so sorry..."

"Shh..." Lancelot knelt in front of her. "It's alright." His voice was barely above a whisper. "Let me help you...sit up." She did, limply.

With a single finger he tucked her hair behind her ears. He used the sleeve of his tunic to wipe away the tears on her face. "Lay back." She did. Her breathing began to ease. He undid her belt and loosened the tied on her trousers. She was too exhausted and in too much pain to care any longer. Lancelot slipped off her pants and laid them on the bed.

He pulled her up into a sitting position again. "Arms up." He gently pulled the breast band over her head, careful not to rub or scrap over any cuts or bruises. He took her in his arms. Sparrow wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned her head against her shoulder. Lancelot stepped into the wash room and lowered her into the steaming water. Sparrow held her breath, letting the heat sink into her skin. She released a long sigh.

Lancelot took the silk cloth hanging on the edge of the tub and dipped it in the water. Wringing out the cloth, he wiped the dirt from her face. Sparrow sat there blankly as she let him cleanse her. For the first time, he truly saw all the damage that was done. Her face may have been horrid, but what one couldn't see, things easier to hide, those were the worst. No olive skin could be seen inside her thighs. The skin was rubbed raw and bruised. Even with the gentleness of his hands, scabs fell off as he passed over them. Blood began to seep in the water.

It took all of his strength not to let his anger take him over. But it was a strange thing. While he wiped away the dirt over her neck and chest, he paused, watching her face. He had never seen this look. She seemed lost, staring into nothing. Like her soul was completely gone, and only her body remained. Whens he finally blinked and moved her eyes in his direction to gaze at him, he couldn't help but gave the littlest of smiles. Perhaps in the worst condition he will ever see her, and she couldn't be more beautiful.

Leaning over, he pressed a light kiss on her forehead. It was by far, the strangest, best, and scariest feeling he has ever had in his life. He really loved her, with everything he had, and he would never love anyone else ever again.

As he finished, he wrung out the cloth, and hung it back over the side. "Sparrow..." She glanced over. "I need you to stand up." She nodded, and he helped her stand.

After getting her dry and dressed into a simple gown, he took the tortoise shell comb and slid it easily through her hair. Leaving her hair down, he carried her back to the bed. When setting her down,. Lancelot heard her stomach growl. "I'll get you something to eat. I'll be back." He kissed her forehead again and headed for the door.

"Lancelot..." The commander looked past his friend to see Sparrow, her back to the door, scrunched in a ball. "How is she?" he asked low.

"I've never seen her like this. But considering some other rape victims we have come across, much better than them." He glanced over his shoulder. "I think she'll be okay, eventually."

"The pain?" Arthur wondered in shame.

"She still hurts...everywhere. If you could see _all_ the damage..." He jaw and fists clenched. He looked back at her again. "Come here..." he pushed Arthur into the hall, closing the door. "I..uh-"

Arthur suddenly looked concerned. "What? What is it?"

Lancelot leaned against the railing. "A, uh, strange feeling came over me in there." He just didn't quite know how to say it. "I love her, Arthur. I mean, really, truly...love her." A grin slowly crept onto Arthur's face. "I, uh, I just...she's it. No one else. Forever."

Arthur clapped a hand on Lancelot's shoulder. The dark knight did the same. After a quick embrace they parted. "Do you want to see her?"

Arthur shook his head. "If I do, I don't think I would be able to trust myself not to kill the Bishop this very moment. Rhyne would be very disappointed," he mused.

"Have you seen Tristan?"

Arthur shook his head. "No, not since last night. Rhyne did a real number on him."

"She did one on all of us...He needs to see her. It might help. But...I have to get her some food. It sounds like she hasn't eaten in days." They parted in different directions.

As the sun set, Sparrow sat on the window ledge. "Mother says they will be here tonight," she commented softly.

Lancelot listened from where he sat at the edge of the bed. "Sparrow...I want you to come with me."

She turned her head and gazed at him. "Come with you?"

"Yes, to Sarmatia." She was speechless. "You can have our child there."

It took her a moment to recover. "Lance...I can't just leave. This is my home. These are my people."

"They won't be by tomorrow afternoon. Every single one of them is going to be dead."

"I'm a British Princess, Lance. I can't leave them."

"Yes you can."

"It's not that easy. No I can't."

"You may die tomorrow."

"I would rather die tomorrow than leave and never come back."

"You have a child to think for now."

"Don't you dare try and pull that on me. These are dangerous times. Right now, our lives matter more than this child."

"You already almost lost it once, and you are going to ride into battle tomorrow."

"My fate lies here, Lance. I am not going to run from it like the rest of you." she stood and left him in the room.

Sparrow opened the door to Rhyne's room. "Mother..." She was lying on the bed, petting the head of Hawk who lie next to her.

"Come in," she waved her daughter over. Sparrow crawled into the bed next to her, and laid her head on Rhyne's lap. The mother gently stroked her daughter's hair.

"Will they be here soon?"

Rhyne nodded. "In a few hours."

"And Arthur?"

"I don't know my darling. We will soon see what he decides."

Rhyne and Sparrow were woken by footsteps and voices outside both the window and the door. A knock startled them. "Rhyne." It was Jol's voice. "Come to the Wall now."

The two of them instinctively grabbed their swords and were out of the room at once, running and weaving through the crowd. The guards at the steps to the battlements allowed them to pass and they took two steps at a time. An orange glow shown through the crenelated wall, and on the other side, thousands of fires.

All the knights were there, minus Dagonet, looking on the fires with desperation and gloom. Rhyne's mouth was pressed into a firm line. This was it. Now it had begun. She glanced in the knights' direction. Each had their eyes on her. She was almost smiling. Her fate had arrived.

"What the hell are you smiling about?" Gawain growled.

"The time has come," she stared over to the wall. More footsteps came up the stairs. Arthur followed very closely by Guinevere.

The Woad Princess eyed the Roman knight for a long moment. All eyes were set on Arthur. He looked at the three women standing beside one another. The three women who made it their duty to lead him to his fate. He turned fully to the helpless villagers below. They would not leave with the Romans. This was their home, and most would stay and fight for it. And lastly, he turned to his knights. Men who were his brothers.

"Knights," he sighed. "My journey must end with you here." Rhyne had to fight off a grin. She instead raised her head proudly, The knights were in absolute shock. What their commander was saying is unthinkable. "May God go with you." He descended back down the stairs. Lancelot, full of pure anger eyed each woman standing across from him than went to catch up with Arthur.

Rhyne gazed at Tristan's stoic face for a moment and made her way down the stairs as well, Guinevere and Sparrow at her heels.

Arthur and Lancelot's argument floated to their ears. "This is not your fight Arthur. This is not our fight!" Arthur continued to stride away, as his closest friend kept pursuing him."All these long years we have been together...the lives we have taken the blood we have shed," he spat. "What was it all for, if not for the reward of freedom?" Arthur stayed silent. "And now when are so close, when it is finally within our grasp, LOOK AT ME!" Lancelot grabbed his shoulder, forcing his commander, friend and brother to face him. "Has it all been for nothing?"

Arthur stared stoically. "You would ask me that? You who know me best of all?"

The words planted Lancelot in place for a long moment, letting Arthur get all most out of reach again. "Then do not do this Arthur, I beg you! As your friend I'm begging you!"

Arthur stepped towards putting a grasping hand on his cheek. "You would be my friend now and not dissuade me. Seize the freedom you have earned, I cannot follow you, Lancelot! I now know that all the blood I have shed, all the lives I have taken, have led me to this moment." Lancelot, after a long silence, nodded in dread. Arthur clapped a hand on his shoulder as he walked away. The dark knight set a hand over his commander's until it slipped out of his grasp.

Not being able to bear watching Arthur disappear to what would surly be his death, he turned back to the wall, which caused him only more pain. Three women stood staring at him. Rhyne in front, Sparrow and Guinevere just behind each shoulder. He marched toward them, stopping a few feet away. "This is your fault!" he pointed at Rhyne. Hawk growled at him from next to Sparrow. The young warrior sat a hand on his head, calming the wolf.

"Everything is my fault it seems," she mused.

"This isn't funny, Rhyne! He is going to die for a cause that isn't his! For a home that isn't his!"

"You're wrong," she said easily. "You will realize soon just as he did...this is your home. These are your people...as they are ours." She held her arms out to the two women beside her.

"Lies!" he screamed. He grasped Sparrow's face gently in his hands. "Please, Sparrow! Don't do this! Come with me. Please come with me!" he whispered fiercely.

Sparrow set her hands on his and slowly peeled them away from her. "This is my home. I was born here...through pain and suffering." She paused. "I will die in the same way. Even if it is with this child growing inside me."

His head fell defeated. The women, moved passed. The crowd split for them like the Red Sea.

Arthur knelt before his father's grave for the second time since his return from the North. A few days ago he was a different man. A Roman Commander. And now...Now he was a Briton. A child to a Roman, yes...but a Briton.

He had believed in the message of Rome. But that seemed like ages ago. Life times ago. And then again, perhaps it was. Not everyone has the chance to see the truth as he has. After all the lies he had been told, and believed down to his soul.

But God had sent him a miracle. Two miracles. In the form of two women. The most unlikely saviors of his soul. Of his life. Rhyne, an old friend, his sister, had come for him just in time. And as he learned, that was all part of the plan. And she had been right all along. After all these years, this place had become his home without him knowing it. And these had become his people. He was of their blood after all.

He knelt there and thought on for longer than he perhaps realized. He felt the presence of him before he actually saw Merlin appear from the gloom of the trees. Three warriors backed him. They were in gowns. He saviors, and Guinevere. He had almost forgotten about her. She had credit as well in the plan.

It was after all, most likely her feelings for him that made him realize in the end. Their debates and arguments were not as heated as they were with Rhyne. But them having no history together made it easier. Rhyne had been there before. In one of the cages in that dungeon. And that was the thought that made him go speak with her last night. He had finally realized where she was coming from, and what she went through. And Sparrow now too. All three women had felt the true cause of Rome, and all suffered for it.

It made him Hate Rome even more, and hate himself. Arthur rose before them. Excalibur shimmered on the moonlight. He lifted the blade in front of him. "Each night, my father would me stories of this sword. How is was made. I had known the Gods were pagan, but little else." He traced the sharpness of the blade with a single finger. "The Gods of my forefathers..."

Merlin shook his head. "They are not your father's Gods, Arthur. They are your mother's Gods. _Our_ Gods." The four smiled.

Arthur turned the hilt in his hand so that they could see it. A medallion of the Christian savior. "But this is the God whom I love." He stared at it intently for a moment before sheathing it at his hip. He brought his eyes to the four in front of them. His gaze clearly showed the decision he has made.

Merlin nodded, slowly. Making it seem more like a bow. The three warriors beside him did the same. Arthur raised his brow in suspicion. "Tell me Merlin," Arthur began. "Where will you be when the swords crack and the dying scream?"

Merlin took a few steps out into the night, waving his arms all around him. "Everywhere..." and his disappeared once again into the trees.

Rhyne approached Arthur. "I believe we have a battle to plan."

The Briton nodded. "Aye, we do."

**Special thanks to the author of the novelized version of King Arthur for the last bit here. It's straight from the book. I loved it so much I didn't want to leave it out.**

**Alright, so sorry again for being so late guys. I can't necessarily promise the next chapter won't a while, but not as long as this one took. **

**I only have a few chapters left, so bare with me. They are all planned, I just have to write them. Once the next one is out the last few will be a breeze coming out. You know how it is with battle chapters...**


	30. In the Company of Heroes

_**Disclaimer: same as always...**_

_**I know you guys probably hate me right now...it has been so long since I updated. But for some reason, I was stuck on 3 pages of this chapter for forever. There was just something that was giving me problems. But it is solved now...and here it is. There are only a few chapters left after this...so we are almost done...and I can single my concentration on the stargate one that I am almost ready to post...and start writing on Shadows again...love ya guys**_

Chapter Thirty

In the Company of Heroes

Vengeance is the weakness of hatred. The metallic taste of vengeful blood that she craves will be taken tonight. The last of her revenge will flow from her heart as blood from his body.

Rhyne sat cross legged under the burning stars with a sheathed sword in her lap. Her eyes were closed in meditation as she stroked the scabbard with her thumb subconsciously. The perfection of the night kept her mind at ease, despite it's unruly fate that came with the dawn.

Rhyne's eyes snapped open as she heard distinct footsteps approaching cautiously. She remained unmoved. "I knew you would come." He remained silent. "But why, is the question."

"Why are you doing this?" He asked after a moment of hesitation.

"Doing what?"

"You know what I mean?"

"Because it needs to be done."

"You will die on that field," she felt him step closer. "Yet you go to face it anyway...freely."

"Would you not protect your home with your life?"

"Not in a reckless attempt, by the Gods Rhyne look at me!"

She launched up to her feet in a sudden rage, coming face-to-face with Tristan. "That's a lie and you know it! Any good man would do anything for his home, and his people." She huffed to the stars and walked a few feet away. "I don't want to fight with you, Tristan."

"What do you want, Rhyne?"

"What do I want?" she turned to him exasperated. "I want those Saxons to go back to their own country. I want all Britons to be at peace. I want to make up for all the evils I have done." Tears welled in her eyes. "I want my daughter to be happy, and not have to suffer as I did. I want her baby to grow up in a land free of fear." She dried the wetness from her cheeks in anger. "There are a lot of things I want, Tristan."

He didn't move or blink through every word, remained silent and passive. She stared back at him for a long moment before taking something from her wrist and holding it out to him. He took the black stone cuff bracelet in his hands, then eyed her strangely. "I want you to have it. It was my father's. It belongs to a Sarmatian Chief. Something that I am not. Take it back to its people."

Rhyne picked up Titan from the ground began to stalk away. "So that's it then? You're ending this, just like that?"

She paused, not facing him. "There's nothing to have, Tristan. Not anymore. I must have been wrong. There is no room for us in our two fates." Rhyne made her way back to the resident halls. Her fists clenched around the sheath of her sword and a cold stare returned. It was time...

The pleading voice was agitating her. A pathetic beg that came only out of self preservation; that he may live to see one more day. The pommel of her hilt hit his temple hard. His body plopped to the ground, along with his chair. The wood shattered under his weight. Before he could react, Rhyne pushed her knee into his neck, driving three fingers into his mouth. His eyes widened in surprise as she harshly pulled on his tongue. Fear shaped every pour in his face as her sword came in sight, slashing through the soft skin.

Drops of blood spurted onto the trails of her dress as she stood to the melody of his mumbled scream. He tried to crawl away from her, but she stomped hard on top one of his hands. Another tongueless screamed came from his mouth, along spit and blood. With two more swings of her sword, she cut above both wrists. His dismembered hands littered the floor. Rhyne knelt onto his chest and spoke calmly.

"I may be condemned for this. But death is a small price to pay if it means you will never speak or do any evils again." She grabbed his face violently in one hand, forcing him to look her in the eye. "When I exit this room, I will think of you only sparingly for the rest of my days. But I'm positive you will think of me everyday for the rest of your useless, pathetic existence." Rhyne wiped the blood from her sword on his silk toga. "You are not worthy of death."

Rhyne made for the door, but stopped to look in the direction of Marius' huddling wife and son. She motioned him over with her blood stained hand. "Come here, boy." Alecto stood defiantly within the cold gleam of her eyes. "You go back to Rome and you tell them of my people. You tell them to never set foot on this island again. You tell them to truth of what you've seen here." With a single nod she left the room, along with her vengeance.

* * *

It was raining again. She let the water of the heavens wash over her body. Blood trailed into the mud beneath her feet. Rhyne rubbed her hands over her face, rinsing away the blood and dirt. Her heart was silent. It was nearly empty. The sun was nearly up. She could lose everything today. Everything that ever mattered to her.

Sparrow. Arthur. Her people. Her home. That's all that remained. Tristan and the other knights...she had lost them to Rome; just like her mother and father. Just like her innocence. She would give anything to feel that ignorance again. It was bliss to not know or understand the horrors of humankind. To never experience the torture of loss or the bitterness of loving. Loving deeply as she has in her life, like an addiction.

"Mother?"

"Is it done?"

"You didn't kill him."

"No, he deserves worse."

Sparrow stepped before her. Blood was splattered across her gown. Blood of the Bishop. "He deserves to be judged," she sneered.

"He has been judged. And he will never do what he did to me to anyone else, ever again. I have finally been set free...of my transgressions." A tear escaped from her eye, blending with the raindrops on her face. "I'm sorry."

"For what?"

"I have never been the mother I should be. Because no matter how much I hate him, I couldn't kill him. I didn't have the strength to kill your real father."

"He's not my father. He never was, and he never will be. My father is the one you love, mother." Sparrow took Rhyne's shoulders in her hands. "Tristan is my father."

"We walk different paths. And I will never see him again." The rain softened as her voice broke. The two women embraced one another tightly. Their strength melded into one complete soul, and they stiffened in the shadow of the moon. In one night, their worlds had changed. Fate was charging towards them with a fierceness that they could not hide from any longer.

"Whatever you have done," Sparrow whispered, "whatever guilt you have left, let it spill from you. It's over, mother."

Rhyne stepped back and looked her daughter in the eye with a coldness that only came from a life in the wild. "No, it's only the beginning."

* * *

When the knights had entered the stables that early morning, Rhyne, Sparrow and Arthur were completing their last preparations. Rhyne was saddling Zyfer. Sparrow was sharpening her twin swords. Arthur was belted the last of the armor onto his black war horse. There was silence except for the neighing and grumbling of the other horses.

Arthur had looked up when they entered. A solemn mask on his face. He stood in front of them. His brothers. Men he has fought beside and shed blood with. They may have only been together for fifteen years, but it felt like a lifetime. They led a life on the frontier. Together. And this would be the last time they look on one another. None could muster any words. There was nothing to say. No words could possibly shape their feelings. Arthur nodded his farewells to each man. He hugged Lancelot fiercely. They set their forehead together lightly. The Commander patted the knight on his cheek a few times before stepping away.

A vicious neigh and stomping captured all of their attentions. Zyfer danced about his stall, anxious to be out in open fields. His master stood with her back to them, holding his cheeks in her hands, whispering to him gently in the Woad language. Her battle armor was all in place, along with the bladed leather guards that tied from wrist to elbow, leaving her forearms bare. Her skin was completely covered in blue paint, her tattoos showing through. Painted blue designs graced the horse's body as well, making them a savage pair to behold.

Rhyne finally turned her head to face them. Her eyes burned with animosity. Braids held tight to her scalp, falling part way down her back. A red Raven of Power was painted on her forehead, making her appearance all the more fearful. She was unlike they had ever seen her. She stared at each of them in turn with a mask of no emotion. Her eyes lingered on Tristan for a long moment, then she flinched away quickly, hoisting herself into Zyfer's saddle. Her mount shuffled his hooves in anticipation as she took the dragon standard leaning from its place on the stall door.

She and Zyfer had charged out of the stables without another look towards the men she had once considered brothers. She had given nothing to those who were looking for a warm goodbye. And now they would never see each other again. Whether she died on this field, or lived for decades after. The knights had made their decision. To follow the fate that was chosen for them. To follow the lives that were etched by Rome.

* * *

They had disappointed her in the end. So she made her way from the Sarmatian stables to the Legionnaire stables on the other side of the fort. She descended the stairs to the underground armory, that now lay empty of weapons, and packed with frightened women and children. Many of the youngest screamed lightly at Rhyne's appearance as she arrived. She forced swords into both, Jarrah's and Jamari's hands. "Just in case," she had told them. The sisters had refused to go to Sarmatia with the knights, and had parted with tears, due to the redness of their eyes when Rhyne greeted them.

"Goddess watch over you," Jamari had said.

"The Goddess is gonna sit this one out," she answered as she left.

Then she had charged up Badon Hill, the dragon standard screaming in her wake, traveling on the wind. Sparrow and Arthur soon joining her. And that is now where the three now sat, on their fidgeting mounts, looking over the future battlefield.

It was dawn. The sun was rising in front of them, through the burning smoke of hay fires that were cast about he field. For once, the clouds were gone. And the sky was clear. It shone gold through the dense smoke. The trees cast long and slithering shadows over the field before them. A long caravan stretched out across the empty grass below, leading the way south. Five familiar horses were head of the line. Dozens of carriages and carts carrying the nobles and their supplies. The retreating villagers both rode and walked along side the caravan. Legionnaires marched and rode their horses at the very end. The Saxon hoard, standing in an enormous mass, waiting, beyond the Wall to the north.

The wind picked up through the trees. A scream from the dragon standard screeched across the field, grabbing the attention of the five knights. Bors broke free from formation, and traveled through the smoke until he could see the crest of Badon Hill clearly, and looked on the three mounted figures. "Artorius!" He raised her sword in the air. "ROUS!"

Arthur raised his standard in reply, Rhyne and Sparrow followed. Sitting at Zyfer's side, Hawk pointed his head toward the sky, releasing a long bellowing howl. Then the lead of the caravan disappeared behind a wall of trees, one by one. Rhyne ignored the rest of the line. Her eyes were on the trees across the field. Only a trained eye would see them, moving among the shadows. Her people. This is what was feared most about the Woads. You would never see them while in the forests, until it's too late. And she could feel him...close by. Merlin's presence soothed her tension.

The Saxons had more than a few surprises waiting for them. Rhyne still had her eyes on the trees when she heard Arthur call her name. "Look," he motioned to the field beyond the Wall. A white flag was being raised, a single Saxon stood away from his army. "Come," Arthur ordered. They posted their standards in the ground, and made their way down the hill.

As the gates opened, the three emerged from the smoke. Their skin already smudged in black. Their mounts trotted forward to meet the enemy, Rhyne and Sparrow backed off enough for them not to overhear the conversation with normal human ears. But as many would argue, Rhyne was far from human. And at the moment, she adopted the look and presence of a banshee. A demon from Arthur's Hell. Zyfer could hardly contain his patience. Seeing the massive army before them pumped an amount of glee in his veins. Rhyne mumbled a few incoherent words and pat his neck gently as she listened in.

"The Romans have left you. Who are you fighting for?"

"I fight for a cause beyond Rome's or your understanding."

Cedric showed a mock understanding. "You come to beg a truce, you should be on your knees."

Arthur unsheathed Excalibur, showing its glory to his enemy. "I came to see your face. And it would be good for you to mark my face, Saxon." Arthur spoke levelly. "For the next time you see it, it will be the last thing you see on this earth." He heeled his horse abruptly and galloped back towards the gates, passing Rhyne and Sparrow in a whirl.

Cedric made note of the two mounted women, then back at Arthur. Raewald stepped up behind him. "It was Arthur?"

"The famous Arthur," he breathed with a nod. "I has a wonderful sword. I look forward to owning it before this day is spent."

"You will own nothing when this day is done, Saxon. Not even your body," a savage voice filled his thoughts. He looked in alarm at the one woman who still had yet to return through the gates. He took a few steps forward and regarded her appearance. The black horse beneath her could not keep still, as she sat through his movements with perfect skill.

"So you are the witch?" he whispered, knowing she would hear.

Zyfer reared up, Rhyne never taking her eyes from the army before them. "I am the Messenger," she corrected, never moving her lips. With that she disappeared back into the depths of the smoke.

* * *

Lancelot and Tristan led the caravan, side by side. None of the knights spoke. All that could be heard between them was the constant pattern of stomping from their horses' hooves. Each of their minds traveled to the same thoughts. Not of their home or freedom. But of what they had left behind to be slaughtered.

In the distance, the Saxon drums sent tremors through the ground. Lancelot closed his eyes, bitting his bottom lip. Arthur had made his choice. Then his thoughts traveled to someone else. To Sparrow. To their unborn child. He clenched her fists. He should have brought her with him. Tied her inside one of the wagons all the way to Sarmatia. Where she would be safe.

What was he kidding? She would kill him before she let him do so. What right did he have in raising a child anyway? He didn't know how to be father. It's not the life he was chosen for. Then his thoughts went to a different woman. Rhyne. Lancelot turned his head to look at Tristan. Silent and stoic as usual. The scout lowered his head and fingered a black stone bracelet that Lancelot had never noticed before. And for the first time, he saw emotion in Tristan's eyes. Of what kind he could not place, but it was feeling none the less. And considering his own feelings at the moment, Lancelot allowed himself a good guess of what it was.

Suddenly, a high pitched screech drowned out the pounding drums. The scream of the dragon standard. The instincts of the knights' war horses kicking in, as they frantically began pulling at their reins and stomped the ground in defiance of their master's will. They were bred for battle, and currently, running far from it. Bors laughed delightfully as his horse sent him in tight circles. "Didn't Dagonet tell us they were all warriors?" Lucan stuck his head out the curtain of the wagon that carried the big knight's still ailing body and joined in the laughter. "Do these horses have to tell us our duty?" he said, finally settling his mount.

Lancelot looked from one man to the other. There were no words needed. All knew what was to be done. Tristan clicked lightly at the hawk on his arm. "Hey, you are free." He set her a flight. Lancelot nodded with a long breath, then stared up into the sky with a smile.

Tristan dismounted, beginning to unload their supply cart. Bors bellowed with another laugh, "Maybe I'll be governor after all."

For the first time in their lives, it was time to choose their own destiny.

* * *

The dragon standard screamed and moaned greatly at its post between Arthur and Rhyne as another powerful wind picked up. She closed her eyes at the sound. It brought images of victories long past. Ones of their own, but ones of their fathers, and generations before them. Victories of the Sarmatians long before they held duties to Rome. The iron dragon head sent warning to its enemies, that this is my victory.

A cry from above caused her to open her eyes. Through the veil of black smoke, a small figure, wings outstretched, circled the battlefield. A smile tugged at her lips. She gave another long cry. Hawk howled up to her in reply. Seeing their winged companion, Rhyne knew they would come long before she heard the pounding of hooves behind them, announcing their arrival.

Lancelot stopped his horse alongside Sparrow. "Are you to carry the standard into battle, Arthur?" he asked pleasantly. "Isn't that a job for Squire Jols?"

Arthur's face broke into a small smile. "Jols is no longer a squire. Someone had to take your place. He was always a better warrior than you anyway."

The four of them erupted with laughter. "True enough!" Lancelot said with mirth.

"Arthur," Rhyne gained his attention. "Our secret weapon has arrived." She motioned to the trees on the far side of the field. Guinevere had finally made herself known. The entire Woad line emerged like ghosts from the trees. Arthur stared after her in silence. Lancelot and Sparrow took hands for a brief moment, and whispered a few words to one another.

As she gave her full attention back to the field, the rest of the knights had arrived. Both man and mount in full battle gear. Tristan at her side. They took in one another's appearance. One thing that they are always gifted at, was conversing without ever saying a word. No words were needed between them. Both had been perfectly content with silence. And with one look, all was mended.

"Now there's a warrior I would like to meet in the field of battle," Gawain smiled robustly. "Well, not battle exactly..." The line laughed as Arthur ground his teeth to keep from saying anything.

"Look there," Galahad pointed out as Guinevere's female bodyguards lined up behind her, dressed and painted in the same manner. "Oh, to be outnumbered by that legion!"

"We Woad women are far to wild and savage for the likes of you two," Rhyne said. "Sorry, boys..." she smirked. Gawain and Galahad grumbled as Bors pat the youngest's back roughly.

"We are here to fight, friends," Lancelot reminded them harshly. "Not carry on as if in a tavern."

"Then lets take care of these Saxon bastards so we can get to the tavern all the sooner!" Bors said with a grunt.

"So you can drink til you can't piss straight?" Rhyne inquired.

The knights' horses were dressed for war. Blankets of chain mail. Saddles of leather and metal adorned in mythical creatures and pagan gods, edged with silver spikes. Sharpened battles anklets on each hoof would prove formidable weapons. Each of their shields depicted a different an extravagant scene.

Rhyne held up her left arm, and the she could see Guinevere order the Woads back into the shadows. The Saxons did not need to know about the surprise waiting for them too quickly. The Saxon drums began once more with a renewed vigor as a small infantry started marching for the open gates. Rhyne fingered her father's talisman around her neck, then tucked safely beneath her armor. She turned her head to Arthur and held out her arm. "With a sword in your hand..."

His head snapped to her with a ghost of a smile. They gripped each other's forearms tightly. "Justice will reign."

Arthur then turned his mount and faced them all. "Knights! In our lives, we roam the earth. Missions, quests, battles, crusades. Our duty compels us to keep moving. We forever seek home, but will never find it. Home is for others, not for us. It is the curse of a warrior's life, for we could never accept the world the way it is, we fight it. For when the great gods created knights, they decreed that death would be our share. So if this be our destiny, so be it!"

He circled his horse to face the battlefield and rose Excalibur in the risen sun. The tail of the dragon standard shone in a riot of color against the dreary darkness of the coming battle. It shrieked its victory, and the knights added their screams, yelling their intentions on the enemy. Each knight showed a quick display of affection to their war horses. Rhyne whispered a blessing into Zyfer's ear.

Tristan's hawk gave a long cry. The wolf at Zyfer's feet answered the call with a howl of his own. The scout urges his mare forward a few steps and strung his bow with a single arrow. He pulled the bowstring back with ease. "Every story has an end," he whispered, and then released.

_**I know you guys hate me again because I ended the chapter here...but this chapter and the next I was writing as one...but I liked this part as the end of one. It is a transition to the battle. Everything changes beyond this point and no one's fate has yet to be written...except by me of course...and I just thought of a new ending today...and I'm excited to write it...the next chapter will be put by next weekend. It won't be that long...it is almost done.**_

**_And I hoped you liked Arthur's speech. I mixed it with stuff from the books, the movie and my own stuff. As always, you may see a scene or some lines from the book. Same thing for the next chapter. _**


	31. The Price of Freedom

_**Disclaimer: same as always...**_

_**So here she is guys. Sorry it took a while. The semester is getting closer to finals, and I may not post the next chapter until the first week of June. And I am free all summer to write and write...and write some more. Don't worry...after two years I'm not going to abandon you guys...and then I will finally be able to start up Shadows again...**_

_**And since I have not thanked you guys personally in a while...I'm gonna do that now...**_

_**DevilandGod: I know, it does feel strange that is it almost over. Only a couple chapters left. This story has been part of my life for two years...that's a strange feeling too...and it will be the first creative project I will ever finish...even though it's not really official. Hope you like it. **_

_**Janell: Any other day I would agree with you. Niether Rhyne nor Sparrow should fight...having to protect a growing life. But Rhyne has a fate to fulfill. And you can never run from your fate. And as for Sparrow...she may be selfish...but no matter what, she would never leave her mother's side. And especially not in a battle that will determine freedom for so many. Thanks for reviewing.**_

_**EarthSong: Not really sure how everyone else pronounces it, but I say Rhyne like "rain"..you know, the weather. I guess I could have spelled it Rain, but I love unique names. Thanks for reviewing.**_

_**Lucillaq: With the whole Sparrow thing...I answered the same thing to DevilandGod. Thanks for reviewing. **_

_**And Anna, Scouter, Zeraie...I'm sure you have your answers now...thanks for reviewing. **_

_**Besides being so busy with school, the other reason it has taken me so long to update is because I completely changed the ending. So I had to think about how that will change what I was about to write. I didn't want to keep you guys waiting...but I didn't want it to suck. The ending I know have in mind is much better...I hope anyway...**_

_**Hope you guys like it...the battle conclusion...**_

Chapter Thirty-One

The Price of Freedom

The small infantry of Saxons turned in shock as the gates closed. The field before them was empty. No men, no discarded weapons. The only thing left behind to even show the presence of men was the burning hay fires. The standards at the top of Badon Hill trailed in the wind, bearing a ghostly essence. The shrill of the dragon standard chilled them to the bone.

A dull whistle filled the air. The men looked amongst themselves, confused with the sound, not noticing the sea of arrows raining down on them through the veils of smoke until it was too late. Before they could recover their rank positions, like ghosts, the knights came charging out of nowhere through their lines. Rhyne swung Titan in a smooth downward arch, tasting it's first blood of the day. The smoke swirled in each horse's wake, engulfing their bodies like fluid.

Both lines of Saxon infantry were taken down like fields of wheat. Each time the knights disappeared, arrows poured down from the sky, and then the Sarmatian ghosts would return to finish them off. They may have well been fighting past departed souls. The knights killed all...except for one, and watched as the last stumbled through the gates to tell his tale.

* * *

Rhyne watched with a stoic and blood splattered face as the rest of the Saxon army came storming into the once again empty field, except for the mutilated corpses of the first infantry. Rhyne's red smeared sword sat casually on her shoulder as Zyfer shuffled his feet, anxious to get back in the action. She looked across the field at the front line of the Woad force. She nodded slowly and deeply to its general. Guinevere raised her bow in answer.

The knights stood in one line above the graveyard, watching their enemy prepare for the battle. Each wearing a calm and cool face. Each mount and its master wore the blood of their victims like a trophy, not making any type of move to wipe the stains.

The army began to form a left flank. Arthur rose Excalibur as a signal. Guinevere yelled a ordered down the Woad line, and they readied their bows. Each arrow was set afire. She raised the weapon to the sky, and released, and the whole line followed. A trail of black smoke trailed every arrow, tracing a road to death for their victims. As the first arrow sunk itself into the pitch, an amazing roar filled the field, and a wall of fire divided the Saxon forces. The screams of dying men who were trying to cross were drowned out by the rising flames.

Guinevere drew her short sword and screamed the charge as the Woad force emerged from the trees, finally showing their numbers, which greatly outnumbered the left flank. Further down the tree line, Merlin ordered the handful of catapults from the covered woods. The first few fireballs were released and exploded in front of the main Saxon line.

Arthur ordered as second charge as the knights raced around the graveyard onto the main field, a force of sprinting Woads at their backs. As the knights launched forward, the hidden company of villagers and mercenaries appeared on top of the fortified wall, screaming the battle in welcome, revealing their presence to the Saxon army. They unleashed a barrage of arrows onto the men below, taking down the very ends of the Saxon force. On the order of Jols, bales of hay were set a fire in front of the gates to cut off their escape. They had no choice but to fight now, whether to live or die. The Saxons who attempted to charge up the stairs were met with a ball of fire, barreling through them like an avalanche.

Fireballs flew overhead as Arthur signaled the knights to move into dragon formation, archers at the flanks of their line. Rhyne steered Zyfer with her knees, shooting her bow with ease as she killed one Saxon after another. As the line came closer, she holstered the bow and drew a bloodied Titan, ready to take off heads. She heard a savage growl from Hawk beside her as he leapt over the Saxon shields, going for his first victim's throat. Zyfer rammed into the men blocking his path, crushing them beneath his hooves. Rhyne sliced and hacked side to side. More blood soaking her blade.

A Saxon grabbed her by the wrist, trying to pull her down. She drew the dagger on her belt and stabbed his neck, and he lost his grip on her arm. Three men armed with spears, charged her. Zyfer reared up protecting his rider, taking one spear in the shoulder. Rhyne dodged one lunged up towards her, taking hold of the wood. She pierced the man in the stomach as he released the spear. She spun it expertly in her hand and threw it into the chest of the third Saxon. She smiled.

Just as she leaned back up in the saddle an arrow entered her shoulder, and she rolled backwards from the force of the blow onto the red earth. Zyfer circled her as she recovered, getting up to her knees. She gripped the arrow in her hand,closing her eyes, bracing for pain. Rhyne pulled it out with one yank and screamed with pain. Throwing it aside, she stood with a huff, and picked up her discarded sword. A familiar body appeared by her side.

Arthur set his back against hers as Saxons circled in on them. "You alright?"

Rhyne snorted. "As well as can be expected."

Lancelot's war horse barreled into three of the circling Saxons from behind. Arthur and Rhyne took the advantage of distraction and attacked. She slashed at one's chest. The force of her blow, echoed up her arm and her shoulder exploded in pain. Rhyne swung her arm at one Saxon's head. The blade on the outside of her forearm sliced deep across his face, and the body fell dead. She smiled. "I did thank for these, right?" she asked Arthur. He only grinned back.

She switched Titan to the other hand and impaled the next Saxon through his torso. But she was too slow for the next. Someone struck the back of her neck and the strength in her legs momentarily collapsed. She was pulled up to her knees when the Saxon gripped a tuft of hair in his hand. His sword raised, but was not expecting the surprise slash from Excalibur that beheaded him.

An open hand appeared before her as she grabbed it and was pulled back to her feet. It was Lancelot, who had apparently been unhorsed. He grinned and Rhyne couldn't help but smile back and pat his cheek. She was glad they could not see her skin, for it would be far paler than normal. Blood began to trail down the arm of her injured shoulder. Rhyne tore off a piece of a dead Saxon's tunic and stuffed it under her armor. Her legs waned, but Lancelot made sure she stayed on her feet.

Bors had rammed his way to them, and now stood on Arthur's other side. "We're just taking a little rest," Arthur said casually. The bald knight laughed heartily.

"I don't know about the rest of you," she growled. "But I'm ready to end this thing."

"Already?" Lancelot mused. "The fun has just begun."

Hawk picked off a single charging Saxon into their group. He thrashed at the man's neck until he was still. The black wolf turned to his knight companions and then jumped back into the fray. "I'd say he's got the right idea," Lancelot said.

Bors laughed again. "Now we're following a dog! Good enough for me!" He pulled the matching fist blades from his belt and stomped back into the fight.

Rhyne shook her head and took a few step forward. "Come on, boys. We have some unfinished business." A united scream came from behind and they charged together for what may be the last time.

* * *

She could barely feel her right arm. Trails of her own blood mixed with the blue paint. But blood of Saxons decorated her armor. The raven of power on her forehead still burned red, despite the wear of the other paint. Rhyne was knocked down from behind for the second time that day and fell to the ground. She growled.

This was really becoming just a bit irritating, she thought. She rolled to her back and reached for a discarded shield to block the Saxon's downward sword. Rhyne kicked at his knee. She felt the bone break beneath her foot, and she swung the shield face painfully at his head. The spike penetrated his skull, killing him instantly.

Something hard came in contact with her cheek that once again knocked her backwards. She groaned when her shoulder hit the ground, then looked up. A particularly large Saxon who wore the helmet of an officer towered over her. He gave her a greedy smile. "Fancy yourself a warrior, do you?"

Rhyne touched a finger to where apparently his foot had kicked her. A small cut was bleeding amidst an already forming welt. Great, that was not going to be pretty later. She blinked up at the man, casually. "What, don't like women reigning your parade?" He looked at her confused. She rolled her eyes. Why do I bother?

"My Lord will take pleasure in knowing I killed you," he seethed.

"Popular one, am I? I might just have to meet this Lord of yours. But not before I get rid of you," Rhyne smiled.

The Saxon swung his mace in a downward arch. Rhyne frowned. This was going to hurt. She rolled over her injured shoulder just before his weapon made contact. Pain shot through her body as she gripped a spear and stabbed her arm towards him, aiming for his middle. Rhyne screamed in both pain and victory as she felt the spearhead penetrate his armor. But he kept on his feet. With a yell of his own pulled the spear out with one enormous yank, and swung his mace again. Oh, fantastic, she thought grimly.

Another jolt of pain poured through her as she rolled to the side once more. She took the piece of wood with both hands, which she knew instantly was a bad idea. Rhyne mentally kicked herself as she felt the weapon lift and throw her several feet. She screamed as she landed on her injured shoulder. As he took his time to stalk over, Rhyne searched the grass for her sword. And of course, he was now in between herself and Titan. She drew her father's dagger. He smiled at it's size and bellowed a laugh.

"My Lord warned us of you. That your life was his to be taken. You are less than even these famous knights." He allowed Rhyne to stand slowly. He was a full two heads taller than her own small stature. "What is a little girl like you, going to do to me, with a little blade like that, huh?" he teased.

Rhyne frowned. It wouldn't be that hard, she drawled to herself. But with some difficulty, she moved her center of aim from his neck to the hand holding his weapon. She flipped the dagger in her hand, gripping the blade, and reach back to throw it. With a light whirl, it hit its target. Right threw the palm. He dropped his weapon and cradled his hand with a fumbling cry. She stood up straight, ignoring her wound, and stomped over to him. He tried to throw a punch, but she blocked his swing with her forearm, embedding his own skin on the custom arm blade attached to the leather casing. He roared once again. Rhyne threw her own fist into his jaw and he stumbled backwards. The golden hilt of her dagger shimmered in the masked sunlight as she pulled it from his hand.

"It's not the size that matters, big guy," she said casually, then her tone hardened. "It's how you use it." He swung his arm lazily and she ducked with ease, as the dagger pierced him threw the belly. And then again, and again. Until he finally fell dead to the ground. She wiped the blood on his tunic before sheathing the blade, and retrieving her sword a few feet away.

A growl from behind startled her, as she turned and saw Hawk ripping out the neck of a Saxon who had tried to impale her with a spear. He looked up at her with a satisfied look. She smiled. "I owe you one, Little Brother." The wolf trotted away, back into battle, but always staying close.

A younger male Woad stepped next her with a short sword and hatchet in hand. "You alright, milady?"

"At the moment," she answered. But they had no time to continue. She suddenly found a half a dozen more Woads beside her as another line of Saxons charged them.

* * *

Sparrow gutted the Saxon in front her, using the body as a shield for incoming arrow bolts before the a group of Woads cut off the archer's limbs. She heard galloping behind, and turned to find Lancelot coming fast on his war horse. He held down a hand, and she grabbed it as he passed, helping her mount up behind him. "You alright?" he asked without looking back. He swung down his sword and took off a Saxon head.

"Fine." It was mostly true. She was already tired. Exhausted. Her right leg throbbed in pain at every movement after taking an arrow into the thigh. Her arms were already weighed down with fatigue. Her throat dry and a pounding headache. Not to mention the still tender cuts and bruises that were now a few days old. They still ailed her body in ways she wanted to ignore and hide from all. But the pain was beginning to win. She silently cursed this baby for the first time. She would be in far better condition if she wasn't pregnant. But there were others with worse injuries than her. Including death, for which she was sure had no cure. "Where are we going?"

"Guinevere. She is outnumbered."

Sparrow peered around him and paled. "You know that's a wall of fire, right?"

"Yes," he answered shortly.

Sparrow shook her head and put an arm tightly around his waist. Just as his horse was ready to spring she closed her eyes. A suddenly went through her, warming her body. The force of the landing racked through her wound. Sparrow winced. She slapped Lancelot's shoulder. "You having fun yet?"

He only grinned in response. Sparrow silently cursed herself. That was a really stupid question on her part. Of course he was having fun. She looked out over his shoulder and spotted one of Guinevere's guards surrounded by Saxons. "This is my stop," she said into Lancelot's ear and pointed to her destination. He nodded, steering his war horse in that direction. She leaned forward to kiss his cheek. "Don't get yourself killed."

"Same to you. Good luck."

Sparrow got ready. This was going to hurt, she thought grimly. But her lips pressed into a think line of concentration as they came closer. Counting down in her head, she braced, and used Lancelot's shoulder to push out of the saddle. For one anxious moment, she dropped through midair, until wrapping her arms around the shoulders of one of the surrounding Saxons and they fell in a heap onto the grass. She gave herself a moment to recover before having to roll away from a striking sword. She grabbed his on the pommel, then threw out her foot, kicking him in the jaw. While he was disoriented, she unsheathed a small knife, and stabbed it through his boot and into the skin of his foot. He screamed as she pulled the sword from his hands and impaled him through his middle.

A hand offered to help her stand, and she took it. It was Guinevere's guard. The two other Saxons were dead. "Nice of you to drop in," the girl said pleasantly.

"A pleasure. Where's Guinevere?"

"Getting a little help." She pointed in the direction of the Woad Princess who was already getting help from Lancelot.

Sparrow smiled, feeling the pain of the fall she took. "I've got a little inkling to join them." The girl beside her shared her smile.

* * *

Rhyne did the inventory. As she had done every few moments. All seemed fine. She was beginning to doubt the vision that brought her back. Although she had already intervened with Dagonet's death, no one was in trouble as of yet, in an obviously more dangerous battle. But then, a sudden feeling came over her. The same on she felt on the ice. A deep pit in her stomach. Where are you, she thought in haste. Lancelot. He was fighting the leader from the ice. Cynric. But as soon as she took her first step, a mysterious wind arrived. It directed her in the opposite direction.

Tristan. The air left her lungs in a fleet of panic. He was heading straight for Cedric. "Dammit, Tristan. Why do you always have to do things the hard way?" She looked back and forth between between the two and fell into despair. Rage flowed through her every bone. "Is this why you sent me here?!" she screamed to the sky. "How do you expect me to make this choice?!" Between a lover and a brother. No matter which she chose, it would bring her pain.

A familiar glimpse appeared beside Lancelot. Sparrow was with him. She glanced back to Tristan. His fight with Cedric had begun, and he was already losing. "Okay, Rhyne, now would be a good time," she said to herself. Going back and forth between a few more times, she began to sprint in Tristan's direction. "Gods help me," she whispered to herself. "Hawk!" she called to the black wolf as she passed him. "A little help!" A bellowing howl filled the air. One she had never heard before. It carried over the screams and agonies of the battle. At first, she thought nothing of it. Just a battle cry. But an unfamiliar howl answered. Then another, and another. Others on the battlefield began to take notice as wolves began to penetrate the trees all around the fighting. Rhyne smiled widely. Maybe we'll win this after all, she thought. "Come on, Little Brother. Let's save the day."

* * *

By the tuft of his hair, Cedric pulled Tristan to his knees. But he wouldn't die like this, not by his own sword. He yanked at the dagger in his shoulder, holding in a scream as it tore at more flesh. With all the strength he had left, Tristan swung his arm and stabbed the thigh of Cedric. But it barely phased the Saxon Lord. He pulled the knife out with ease, tossing it a few yards away. This was it then, Tristan thought. But he didn't expect for Cedric to be knocked from behind hard enough to push him into the grass. Tristan fell limp onto the ground, groaning in pain at the impact.

A large black wolf kept the Saxon at bay, thrashing at the man's wrists. He reached out for his sword, but was held back in vain. He was too weak. But in a rush of panic, he saw Cedric fingering the pommel of the dagger. He reached out again, but it was too late. With a dreading thud, the blade penetrated through the ribs of the wolf. A painful scream followed the dog's yelp. Rhyne suddenly appeared at Hawk's side. Tears were already falling down her cheeks. Cedric crawled away to wrap his bloody wrist.

"No, no, no. Stay with me," she pleaded. She stroked his fur. He was bleeding too much. "Please..." A hand fell on her knee. Tristan looked up at her. "Are you okay?" she asked.

"I am now." He pulled Hawk easily against him. The wolf whined in pain. "Finish it."

Rhyne stared at her dying companion. The black wolf stared right back. She leaned down and kissed his muzzle quickly. "Thank you, my friend." Tristan painfully put a hand on Hawk's shoulder. The wolf did not deserve to die alone. Rhyne stood, taking Titan in her hand.

Cedric was already facing her. Ready. "Friend of yours?" he asked pleasantly.

Rhyne's eyes turned to ice. "The best," she sneered.

The Saxon smiled. "I was warned of you. Told that we would meet. You don't seem all that... dangerous."

"You might want to check your sources. I am the last person you want to underestimate." Her grip on Titan tightened. "You're going to regret everyday you spent on this island."

He stared at the red raven on her forehead, and the decorated armor she wore. "You dress yourself like a queen."

"I am a queen."

His brow raised, impressed. "Well then, I will need a queen at my side. You will fit nicely in chains." The statement ended in growl.

"You will never make it off this field." Ignoring the pain that reverberated through her body, she swung Titan in high arch as their swords met in the space between.

* * *

Her breath stopped in horror as she watched Cynric pick up the crossbow from the ground. He stood with Lancelot in his sights. Why does that boy never watch his back, Sparrow thought quickly. She forgot the pain in her leg, and the bruises that weighed down her limbs, praying that she would be fast enough.

She wrapped her arms around the Saxon's neck and rammed through him. The crossbow went off just as Lancelot turned. The arrow pierced his shoulder, and he barreled to the ground. Sparrow rolled over Cynric once they hit the grass. Pain exploded in her shoulder. She tried to stand, but couldn't go any further than on her hands and knees. A violent kick in her stomach shot the breath from hers lungs and the strength in her arms gave way.

A foot rolled her onto her back. Cynric stood over her with a short sword. "That's why women don't belong on the battlefield. You're weak." He raised the sword over his head when a sudden surprise showed on his face. The sword dropped from his hands. His body shuttered and a sword tip protruded from his chest.

"So are you," Lancelot snarled. He forced him off his sword. The limp body crumpled to the ground. He knelt beside Sparrow. "You alright?"

"Fine." He helped her stand. The crowd had thinned considerably. There was no rush in picking up their swords.

"We should get you to the sisters back at the fort."

"I'm fine. Where's mother?"

* * *

She was losing. That much she knew. But it didn't matter anymore. Whether to live or die, she knew this was right. This was where her fate lied. Exhaustion was hitting her hard. Every limb felt like a rock. The skin on her knuckles were gone. A few fingers were definitely broken. She had to will herself to keep hold of Titan in both hands.

Rhyne parried the low strike of his sword, but was greeted with his fist on her jaw. She staggered back a few steps, and spit the blood from her mouth, wiping the excess with the back of her hand. Cedric laughed. "Just give up. You're not strong enough to defeat me."

With a single deep breath she steadied herself. "I don't have to be." She charged him, swinging Titan in a high arch with as much strength as she had left. He blocked and parried each blow. With each step her body got heavier. He easily spun from the path of her lung, slashing at her lower back.

Her knees lost feelings, and she hit the ground. Cedric stepped on the blade of Titan and kicked it away from her. She tried to crawl away from her, but her muscles had given in. She felt an exploding pain in her stomach and she hunched on her side. He kicked her again, knocking the breath out of her. As she gasped for air, Cedric grabbed her by the tuft of her hair, pulling her to her knees.

"I am so sick of the famous Arthur," he punched her. "And his famous knights." Punch. "And the great destiny he holds." Punch. "How no one can defeat him." Punch. "And how you were suppose to defeat me." Punch. Blood covered the color of her face. One eye was already swollen shut and her nose broken. She was sure she heard the cheekbone crack after the third punch.

A small dagger thudded into the back of Cedric's thigh. He dropped Rhyne, who toppled to the ground, and pulled out the knife, turning in a storm towards Tristan. Rhyne lazily, with the last strength she had left, reached for Cedric's ankle, weakly wrapping her fingers around it. "No," she coughed.

He bent down towards her, stabbing the knife into her shoulder blade. She groaned in pain. "I'm tired of you getting in my way."

Cedric gripped her by the throat, slowly lifting her entire body off the ground. She couldn't breath. With a sudden wave of hidden adrenaline, she tried to pry his hand away from her. It only made him squeeze harder. Rhyne thought she could hear her name being called in the background, but was unsure. The sounds of battle were nothing but blurs of noise. He pulled a dagger hidden from within his tunic, and stabbed her high in the ribs. Her gasp came out only in wheezes. Then she was falling. The impact of hitting the ground knocked the wind out of her again, and her body shuttered with painful coughs until she could breath again.

Rhyne pulled the dagger out of her side and held it before her eyes. She recognized the discoloration of the blade. "Poison," her voice shook with pain. She dropped the dagger and looked up at Cedric. "You will not win," she gathered as much venom in her voice as possible.

He laughed. His voice seemed lower than normal. The herb was taking effect. Her vision was blurry and the feeling in her legs were gone. Cedric raised his sword to give the killing strike, but another blocked his blow. A blade that shown like the sun. "Arthur," she struggled a whisper. Her head fell to the right. She could see Tristan speaking to her, but did not hear him.

Rhyne couldn't fight it. She let it come. The pain was gone, and she sighed in relief. No more suffering. It was about time. She turned her head toward the sky. She did not want the last glimpse of her life to be of battle. A hawk circled above the smoke. She wished she could hear her screech, one last time. There was a lot of things she wished.

There was never a plan of dying. But they were safe. That's what mattered. And for the last few quick moments, she let herself revel in victory. Her burden was lifted, and her task was done. She would reunite with those she lost and watch over those she left behind. Her only regret, is that she never got the chance to give birth to this child. To Tristan's child.

That was the price of freedom.

Her eyes fluttered closed and she knew no more.


	32. One Last Breath

_**Disclaimer: same as always. **_

_**Hey guys..sorry this took me so long...but it ended up being longer that I originally thought. I just struggled with this chapter for some reason...I guess I'm losing my touch for this story or something...I dunno. I didn't help that I changed the end a bunch of times in the last few months...**_

_**Anyway...some of you will like it, and others won't...please review...I REALLY want to know what you think on this one...**_

_**Thanks to all my reviewers...I did work especially hard on this chapie to make it the best possible...I just needed to work...so this chapter is for all of my faithful readers...especially the ones that have been there since the beginning...**_

Hold me now  
I'm six feet from the edge and I'm thinking  
That maybe six feet  
Ain't so far down  
I'm looking down now that it's over  
Reflecting on all of my mistakes  
I thought I found the road to somewhere  
Somewhere in His grace  
I cried out heaven save me  
But I'm down to one last breath

Chapter Thirty-Two

One Last Breath

Jamari exploded through the door, her sister behind her. Arthur followed with an unconscious Rhyne in her arms. "Get her on the bed and start stripping the armor!" The eldest sister commanded, disappearing into the storage room. Arthur laid her gently into the cushion of the bed, and he and Guinevere did as instructed. Tristan pushed from Galahad who helped him from the battlefield, and began helping Arthur.

Jarrah slapped his hands away. "You have wounds of your own."

A hand set lightly on his shoulder. He looked up at Merlin. "She is right my son. You must take care of yourself. That's the only way you can help her now." Tristan didn't argue as he stepped back and silently kept his eyes on Rhyne. Guinevere pushed her way through the knights and knelt beside the bed, helping Jarrah with the armor. Her mouth moved fiercely as she worked, speaking words no one could hear.

Sparrow came through the door and tried as well to get to her mother's side, but Merlin grasped her shoulders. "We will do everything we can for her." He looked at the faces of all the knights that had entered the room. "You all have wounds of your own. Go and see to them. Everything that can be done, will be done." He pushed Sparrow to the door. The young warrior stared panicked at her unconscious mother, refusing to move. Lancelot pulled her away by the elbow. Slowly, the other knights began to file out, except for Tristan and Arthur.

Jamari came back into the room, supplies in her arms, dropping them into a chair. She put her hands on the chests of Arthur and Tristan, pushing them out the door. "You have both lost blood and need to sit down. We can't afford losing all of you." With one more push they were out the door. "We will call for you if anything happens." And the door was shut in their faces.

The other knights were already being fussed over by some of the villagers amongst the courtyard. Bors kept trying to shoo away the hands of Vanora who had already returned from the caravan. She slapped him on the shoulder. "Watch your bloody hands woman!" he hissed.

"Then sit still your big bully," she retorted. Bors tried to hide the pout as he finally sat still.

Tristan and Arthur were led to a seat as their wounds began to be looked after as well. Through his curtain of hair, Tristan silently regarded the Woad girl as she cleaned the dirt and blood away from a gash on his thigh. She was more than just a girl. She was a soldier. The faded paint on her skin and small wounds of her own declared her so. He had seen few female Woads, and even killed one or two. It was a strange feeling, that days ago, he would consider her an enemy. It almost felt like a relief that they were that no longer. After all, no matter how different they seemed, they were fighting for the same thing. Rhyne was right. Brothers of the same cause.

Lancelot yelled out the pain as the arrow bolt was pulled from his shoulder. "Why does Guinevere get to stay?"

Sparrow hissed as the wound on her thigh was being wrapped. "They are sworn together under the Great Dragon. There is a lifeline between them that cannot be explained."

"Like ours?" Lancelot questioned.

The young warrior shook her head in exhaustion. "Far stronger. Their blood is rooted deep in the magic of the Otherworld." She winced leaning back into the table.

Lancelot took her hand gently. "You should rest. And eat. You are deathly pale."

The old village women cleaning her smaller wounds nodded. "He is right, Miss. Fighting wasn't very good for that baby."

Sparrow refused. "I don't want to move."

"I will find you if there is any news," Lancelot insisted. A deep frown was set in Sparrow's face she as nodded an agreement. She accepted the two hands of assistance to stand almost gratefully. She would have slept on that bench if they would let her. She took one last glance at the closed door before letting the two women lead her away.

Food and drink were brought to each knight in turn. They took it numbly, not caring what it was they passed into their mouths. All took their fill except for Tristan. He never moved never blinked as he kept his eyes on the door that led to Rhyne. He strained to hear any conversation from within, but failed to do so.

Soon, their own wounds were tended, and the words between them lessened. Even Bors could find nothing to say to Vanora as she finally sat in on the silent vigil along side him, sending the children off to play.

Arthur paced. He couldn't find the patience to sit, and couldn't understand how the others did. Lancelot, Bors, Galahad and Gawain continued to pass a pitcher of ale amongst each other, saying nothing. Tristan always refused. Didn't even regard the offer. He did nothing but breath. In and out. For the first time, his calmness and expressionless face infuriated Arthur. How could he be so calm? This was what he hated about being a Commander. About leading men. This was where all his fears lie, and all his haunting dreams lingered.

As the silence continued, so did the pressure of every passing moment. Every moment that was precious. These were moments when all his training and years of experience were useless. There was only one thing he could do, just like the others. They had to wait. Wait for a word of life or death. These were the moments that led to either tragedies or miracles. But they had to wait. Wait in a dreading silence. Because no matter the outcome, the anxiety was always the same.

And that's what he couldn't stand.

Lancelot sat with his head leaning against one hand, drifting somewhere between sleep and consciousness. He wasn't sure how long they had been sitting there when the door finally opened, startling him from his exhaustion. But the sky was dark. It had been hours since they were pushed into the courtyard, awaiting the news of Rhyne's fate. They all stood at once, some tables and chairs knocked to the ground as they met Merlin in a half circle. Arthur stared at Merlin's blood covered hands in horror. He searched for Tristan immediately, but was not present. He must have passed into the room as soon as the door had been opened.

The old shaman took a deep breath before speaking, leaving the knights in suspense. "The bleeding has stopped, but the poison still reeks havoc on her body." He tried to wipe his hands clean on an old cloth, already soiled.

"But you can stop it..." Galahad stated. Lancelot couldn't tell if he had meant it as a question.

Merlin expressed a grim frown. "We have done everything we can. The poison is too strong. Her body will continue to break down as she dies."

"You have to stop it," Lancelot demanded. He looked towards his commander for support, but it was useless. Arthur's face showed the pain he was in. His words would be too struggled now.

"Nothing I possess can help her now," the wizard stated somberly.

"So we're going to sit here and let her die!" Gawain barked. The tension between them heightened as their voices began to raise.

"No," Merlin said firmly, holding his hands up to calm them. Silence fell amongst them again. "She needs more than I can provide here. She needs the healings of Avalon."

"Avalon?" Galahad drawled. "You can't be serious. It doesn't exist."

"Oh, it does." The knights turned at the voice of Guinevere. She was standing in the door way. The deer skin pants she wore covered in dry blood. "Just not where you can see it." She joined the circle next to her father. "It lies in the mist, between this world and the next."

"The center of the Old Ways in this realm," Merlin nodded. "The priestesses are the only ones that can help her now."

"Okay...how do we bloody get there?" growled Bors.

"We don't," Merlin told him. The knights fell into an awkward silence as Merlin looked up into the clouds and whistled. The heard the familiar cry of a hawk. She emerged from the low cloud cover in a swift dive, landing on Merlin's outstretched arm. He whispered to the bird lightly, in a language the knight's didn't recognize. She flapped her wings hastily as he finished and he launched her into the air. They all watched the hawk climb higher and finally disappear in the distance. "The followers of the Lady come to us."

Jarrah appeared from inside the room where Rhyne lay. It was apparent that she had tried to clean as much blood from her as possible and compose her emotions before showing her face. She found the arms of Galahad, burying her face into his neck. "A fever has set in and it may continue to get worse before they arrive. Go and find rest. All of you. You may visit her in the morning."

The knights turned to each other hesitantly. Guinevere put her hand on Arthur's shoulder. He caught her eye and nodded. "Merlin's right. We're all exhausted, and can't do anything for her while bombarding her door." He eyed the knights after no one moved. They all grumbled as they began to disperse.

"Tristan..." Arthur murmured to the shaman with a ragged sigh.

"I will see to him," Merlin said. Guinevere took Arthur by the hand and led him to his rooms.

Lancelot opened the door as quietly as possible and stuck his head in. Sparrow laid on her side asleep on the bed. Her skin tone was almost back to normal. Her bruises were no longer purple and beginning to fade. She wore a loose pair of trousers and one of his own tunics which was far too large for her. She had pushed the edge of the cloth up to her abdomen and had a bare hand over the slight bulge in her belly. It's the first time he had seen the growth. He closed the door with a small smile and continued to the wash room, not wanting to disturb her.

Apparently Sparrow had fresh water sent in after her own bath for him. It was cold now, but he did care. He fell out of his soiled clothes and washed quickly. He rubbed at his wet hair with a drying towel before sitting on the bed beside her. He laid a hand over her own protecting her belly and leaned down to kiss her cheek. She stirred with a small groan and opened her eyes. She gave a slight smile at the site of him before she shot up to a sitting position with a gasp "Mother?"

"They stopped the bleeding. But the poison is making her worse. And she has a bad fever."

"What can he do?"

Lancelot frowned. "Merlin says there is nothing else he can do."

A panicked face crossed her features. "Then what-"

"He is calling on Avalon."

"Avalon. The priestesses." He nodded. Sparrow looked away from him, subconsciously rubbing a hand over her stomach. He knew she was fighting back tears.

"How are you?" He tried distracting her. "The baby?"

Sparrows hand moved in circles over her belly again as she looked back to him. "Okay," she said quietly.

Lancelot moved her hair out of her face. "You well enough to go see her?" She nodded. He set his forehead against hers. "It's going to be okay." He kissed her. He was going to pull away, but couldn't. It felt as if he hadn't kissed her for years. A lot had happened in a few days. And she was still here. Sparrow and the baby. He gently pulled her body closer, deepening the kiss. Her fingers wound into his hair. A groan passed into her mouth and Lancelot backed away from her lips.

"I love you," she whispered.

"I know." He smiled, taking her into his arms and walking out the door.

* * *

Tristan wasn't sure how long he sat there. Each time the wet cloth on her forehead dried out he soaked it again in the basin beside the bed. He took her hand at times, silently willing her to wake. But she never moved. It was as if she was dead already. The skin around the dagger wound was black. It looked hideous. Jamari said it was the poison. If she didn't get help, the black would spread. Then it would kill her.

His fists clenched in anger. How could he allow this to happen? He was a fool to take on Cedric. Then she wouldn't have come to save him. Even Hawk may still be alive. He wiped his hands over his face. "The fault is not yours." Tristan sat up in his chair and looked at Merlin who was leaning on his staff in the doorway. "She chose her own fate. That is something none of us can share."

"So she chose death?" Tristan snapped.

"No. Her thoughts were never on her own life. But yours." He paused. "She never told you why she came back, did she?"

"She said she had a duty. That was all." Tristan kept his eyes on Rhyne.

"Yes, she had a duty. One she gave herself." Merlin approached the head of the bed and stared down at who he considered a daughter. "She had a vision...of knights dying. Her knights. She saddled Zyfer and ran south that next moment. And if she didn't...you, Lancelot, and Dagonet I fear, would all be dead."

"Our deaths were never hers to decide."

"Perhaps not. Maybe her vision never would have come true. None of us are divine enough to interpret true the messages of the Gods. Not even her."

"Then why did you let her leave?" Tristan stood from his chair and turned on the shaman. "If you knew this could happen!" Rage tore at his features. "Why did you let her run to her death?"

"Did I? To put your lives before hers was her own choice. Her own will. I have not the power to take that from her. And I wouldn't. She spent enough time caged," Merlin explained lightly.

"It should be me lying there. Not her. She never deserved this." Tristan tone was heavy in guilt. His eyes traveled to the ground as his shoulders slumped.

Merlin put a hand on his shoulder. Tristan let his eyes meet the Woad's. "What do any of us deserve? It's only for the Gods to decide. "You cannot share her fate. What ever it may be."

The door opened. Lancelot entered with Sparrow in his arms. Tristan took his place back in the chair beside the bed. "Sparrow," Merlin greeted them. "How are you feeling, child?"

"Alright." Lancelot sat her in a second chair. "How is she?"

"More than I can provide here."

"Lance told me you called on the priestesses." Merlin nodded. "How long will it take?"

"A day. Two at the most if they come. Anymore than that and it may be too late." Merlin set his hand on Tristan's shoulder once more. "You need food, and rest of your own." Tristan shook his head. "You're no good to anyone half alive."

"I'm not leaving."

"Father," Sparrow said sternly. The scout looked over at her. "Go. I will stay with her."

"We will send for you if there is any change," Lancelot reassured. Tristan finally receded with a nod. He leaned down to kiss Rhyne's cheek and followed Merlin out the door.

"Do you think they will come? The priestesses I mean." Lancelot settled in Tristan's chair that he pulled beside her.

Sparrow sighed grimly, glancing down at her deathly pale mother. "I hope so." A tear fell down her cheek and she buried her face into his shoulder.

* * *

The sun was setting again. Gawain let out a frustrated sigh. It has now been two days since the battle. And no sigh of any visitors. He leaned against the wall of the battlements and looked out south. What had once been Roman territory. And was now theirs...wasn't it? There were many people that could lay claim to this land. The British villagers that dotted the land below the Wall, the Woads in the north, the Irish, whom he assumed would hear of the Roman retreat soon enough...and them. But who exactly were they? A band of Britons, the Woads under Merlin, a small number of Romans that stayed behind, a few Sarmatian knights all led by a half Roman and half British Commander.

Gawain snorted. Who was he kidding. The fight wasn't over. Not even close. Everyone will lay claim. Peace was a long way off. He turned to the approaching footsteps of Galahad, who was coming up the steps with a mug in each hand. He held one out to Gawain as he reached the top. "Thought you could use this." The tawny haired knight nodded in thanks. "No sign?"

The older shook his head. "Nothing." He took a long gulp of the mead, ignoring the burn down his throat. "He had me believing there for a minute too."

Galahad nodded bitterly. "Have you seen her today?"

"No."

"The black has spread. It covers that entire side of her ribs now. Merlin says it won't be long."

But Gawain wasn't listening anymore. His eyes were down south. The trees slowly began to disappear in a gathering fog. Normally, this wouldn't surprise him. Fog in Britain wasn't an unusual thing. But it was moving towards the Wall. Faster than anything else he's ever seen. He hit Galahad in the arm lightly to get his attention. "Look at that."

Galahad narrowed his eyes. "What the-" He cut himself of as they both looked at each other, their expressions he same. They bolted off the battlements.

Sparrow followed by Lancelot, charged up the stair ignoring the burning of pain in her leg. She stared over the battlements beside Merlin and smiled. "They're here." She breathed out a sigh of relief and closed her eyes. "Thank you, Lady."

"It's just mist," Arthur inquired. "This is Britain."

Guinevere shook her head with a light smile. The cry from a hawk caused them to lift their heads. Her wings flew her away from the mist and towards them. "It's them."

As the mist stopped before the gates, two women emerged walking towards them. Their blue gowns identical, their hair in braids. They carried a long wooden board. They looked up to those standing on the battlements. "We are priestesses of Avalon. We come for Rhyne of the Novantae." Her voice was light, but held a commanding power over each of them.

Arthur turned to the guard. "Open the gates," he ordered.

Merlin led both women into the room that held Rhyne. Tristan was jarred wake from the chair he slept in as the door was opened. The priestess that was clearly older knelt beside the bed examining Rhyne's wound. The shaman nodded to Tristan, comforting his anxiety. "I know this poison. She doesn't have much time."

The younger set the board beside the bed. "Get her on this. Gently."

Sparrow held her unconscious mother's hand on the way back to the gates. "Can you help her?" Arthur asked.

"I can't say. The Lady will know what to do." They reached the gates and Merlin stopped all from following.

Tristan tried to push past them but the shaman caught his arm. "You cannot enter the mist," he forced. "You will lost in between without knowing how to channel the magic. And you will be roaming there forever."

They all watched as the the priestesses reentered the mist. For a moment, nothing happened. But slowly, it began to disappear in thin air until all was gone and the sky was clear again. "Now what?" Bros grumbled.

"Now we wait," Merlin answered and Arthur ordered the gates closed.

* * *

Rhyne opened her eyes. The sun was high in a clear blue sky. No clouds could be seen. The grass was soft on her skin. There was no more pain. She sat up. Her skin was free of blood and paint. Even of scars. She wore a simple white gown, and no shoes. Her hair was perfectly wavy down her back. The air was warm. It felt like a perfect British spring.

When she finally took in her surroundings, they are familiar. It was the battlefield on which she had just been lying. She smiled. She had done it. Completed her purpose. They were alive. And would remain so for many years to come. They would see their children, and some, even their grandchildren before there time finally comes. Then she frowned and slid her hand over the flatness of her belly. It was a dear cost, to condemn the life of her unborn child. But there was nothing for her to do. She was given a task and a duty, which she had to complete...at any cost.

But it is something that she would forever regret.

With a lazed effort, she fell back into the grass with a grin. She had no final worries, and no more obstacles to overcome. Her time was done.

But why was she still here? Why had she not crossed over? This had always been a place between worlds. Not the next.

There was a pleasant laugh of a man behind her. She sat up and turned. A man, around her age, sat on a fallen tree log at the edge of the tree line, playing with a black dog. She began to walk closer. A breeze picked up, tossing a thin curtain of hair in her face. She didn't recognize him. Short brown hair, only a few inches from his head. A good foot taller than her, wearing a simple sleeveless tunic and trousers. And the animal he played with was more than just a simple dog.

"Little Brother?" The wolf turned to her at the call of her endearment. He scurried over to her with a playful bounce. Rhyne grinned as he set his front paws on her chest in greeting and preceded to lick her face. A laugh passed her lips.

"He's been quite impatient for your arrival," the man walked up to them. "Doesn't surprise me though. He had been hanging around you after all." He squinted in the sun.

Rhyne looked at him curiously. There was something familiar about his presence, yet, she didn't recognize him at all. Hawk began bouncing happily around them. "Who are you?"

He only smiled. "Your father wished to be here. But Pelagius thought that unwise."

"My father?"

He smiled. "I didn't think you'd recognize me." He held his hand out to her. Her hand slowly found its way into his. He twirled her in a circle, and she gasped. Of course. It made sense. The same eyes. Same smile. Same laugh...which he just happened to be doing. As if there had not between fourteen years since they had last been together. Rhyne slapped him on the shoulder.

"Don't boast. It never suited you!"

"I'm sorry. But your face..." he trailed off with a smile.

Tears of both joy fell down her cheeks. She hugged him fiercely and his arms wrapped around her waist as he returned it. The guilt that has built up for fourteen years was released in that one hug. Tears rolled from her cheeks soaking into his tunic. "I'm sorry," she choked out and repeated over and over again. He whispered comforts into her ear as she let the tears she has been holding in flow from her. "Conner..." she sniveled. "I missed you."

"I know," he murmured. He stepped away from her, forcing her to look at him. His hands on her cheeks he wiped the falling tears and moved the hair from her face. "It wasn't your fault."

"I should have-"

"Done nothing," he cut across her. "Exactly what you did. I would have rather what happened than you give up." her eyes wandered from his. "Hey," he whispered. Her eyes mt is again. "I am so proud of you. Everyone is." It caused more tears to fall and he smiled. "That's nothing to cry over."

"I thought I failed all of you," she mumbled.

Conner kissed her forehead. "You never did."

Rhyne backed away from him, covering her face for a moment to compose herself. She wiped the rest of her tears looked him over. A smile split her face. "You look good."

Conner grinned. "It's what I would have been."

Rhyne turned in a full circle before facing him again. "Did no else come?"

Conner sighed. "Your are not done, Rhyne."

The smile disappeared. "What?"

"You have one task left to finish." She stared at him. "You need to give birth to this child. He is very important in the future."

"And how exactly am I supposed to do that. I'm dead, Conner. I died on the field."

"No." He shook his head with a frown.

"What do you mean no. I was there. I felt it." Her voice began to raise in frustration.

"The poison slowed your heart and sent you into a coma." She opened her mouth to speak but Conner cut her off. "You are under the care of the priestesses in Avalon. Your son has a future that must take place. You must wake."

"How long have I been there?" He paused. "How long, Conner?" her tone hardened.

"Four months." Rhyne turned and stepped away from him, brushing fingers threw her hair. If she was needed back there then why was she brought here? "He will have an important role in Arthur's reign," Conner eased.

Rhyne sighed, staring up into a blue sky that was abnormal for the true Britain. "And how am I supposed to get back?"

Conner smiled. "You already know that answer."

Rhyne laughed and turned back to him, hands on her hips. "This is why you came to be my messenger, wasn't it?" He tried to cover a smirk with innocence. She sniggered while approaching him. "Your job is not hard at all is it, Conner of the Caledonii?" She took his hand. He brought it to his lips and kissed the tops of her knuckles. He took her cheek lightly in his other hand. "With the power of love..." she whispered.

He leaned forward and placed his lips on hers.

* * *

Sparrow eyed the mug of ale in front of Lancelot with longing. He laughed drunkenly with Gawain beside him, who had one arm slung around a pregnant Jamari. However, unlike Sparrow, she was only four months along. The first thing she was going to do once this parasite was out of her scraff down an entire pitcher of wine. To drown out she sorrows she pulled Lancelot's plate in front of her and began to finish the half eaten roasted pork.

The dark knight scowled at her. "You already ate," he slurred out.

"I'm hungry again," she scavenged the meat. "It must be a boy. Nothing has ever made me eat this much. And everyone knows you would eat this foot bare if you could." Gawain laughed, laying his head on the table.

"What was Merlin's news on about Rhyne?" Bors grumbled from another table.

"That she was improving slightly. But the pregnancy is still causing her to not heal fully," Dagonet answered.

"That wench just needs to bloody wake up," he growled. "We all know Tristan has barely slept in four months."

"Where is he anyway?" Galahad looked around lazily. Everyone just shrugged. Sparrow frowned. Tristan had been extremely distant ever since they took Rhyne away. Talking only when absolutely necessary. But the news from the Holy Isle should have perked him up if only slightly. She was getting better. Which meant she wasn't dying. Sparrow set a hand on her enormous bulge. She wanted her mother with her when the time came. But that was unlikely. Vanora has been telling her for two weeks that it should be any day now. She grimaced as she felt a kick to her ribs.

Dagonet set a hand on her shoulder. "You feeling okay?"

Sparrow snorted. "I would be if he gave me one good night's sleep."

"The child or Lancelot?" Dagonet smirked.

She laughed. "I just want him bloody out of me." Maybe the Gods heard her. She gasped at the strange sensation between her legs. Then...then nothing. It was gone. Wait...her feet were wet. And her dress. "Dag..." he looked down at her. "My feet her wet." His brow furrowed. She hunched over slightly as something shot up her spine. She cried out in pain. The table went silent.

Jamari and Jarrah stood immediately. "Vanora!" the older called across the tavern. But she was already bounding over, shoving Eleven into the arms of Bors as she passed. "It's time. The baby comes."

"Okay, let's get her to the healing rooms." The sisters helped Sparrow to her feet. She glanced at Lancelot who looked as if he sobered up in a moment. Then his face went pale. "Where's Guinevere?" Sparrow breathed.

"I'm here," the queen took Jarrah's place by her side.

* * *

Lancelot stole the mug from Bors's hand, intent on downing all of it. Arthur took it from his, handing it back to to the bald knight. "I think you've had enough," his friend soothed. Another scream came from the room and everyone outside it flinched.

"Why won't they let me in?" Lancelot growled.

Bors laughed. "Trust me, you don't want to be in there. Saw three being born." His face shook with disgust. "I don't wanna ever see that again." He drowned the glass as if trying to will away the images.

Sparrow screamed again. It seemed like days had passed since her water broke in the tavern. "Almost there," Jamari said. "I can see the head."

"Push, child! One more push!"

"I am bloody pushing!" Sparrow roared at them, laying her head back on the pillows.

Guinevere wiped the sweat from her face and squeezed her hand. "You can do this," she soothed. "This should be easy compared to living with Lancelot."

Sparrow made a sound what was somewhere between a groan of pain and laughter. She picked her head up as her brow set in concentration. "One more Sparrow," Jamari ordered. "One more and it's over." She nodded and squeezed Guinevere's hand as she screamed again. "Come on," the healer enthused. "Here we go," she grinned and another cry split the air. The cry of a baby. Sparrow let her head fall back with a sigh of relief. Vanora cut the cord as Jarrah wrapped the infant in blanket in her sister's arms. "It's a girl," Jamari said. She set the bundle on Sparrow's chest.

The mother smiled. "Hello there..." she whispered. But before she could say anything else another pain spiked in her belly. "What's wrong?" she grunted low.

Jamari took her spot between Sparrows legs again. Her brows raised. Vanora looked over her shoulder. "Oh, dear."

"What?" Guinevere snapped.

"Here comes another," Jamari said.

"What?!" Sparrow picked her head up in distress. Guinevere could only shrug. "Oh, I'm gonna kill Lancelot. He's gonna give birth to the next one," she said through gritted teeth. All the women in the room laughed.

Guinevere set the baby girl into Jarrah's arms. "Take her to Lancelot."

All the men stood as the door opened. Jarrah came out with a bundle in her arms. Arthur smiled. She passed the infant into Lancelot's arms. He took the baby carefully, cradling the body in one arm and the head in his free hand. "It's a girl," Jarrah said simply. The knights crowded around him to catch a glimpse.

Sparrow screamed and they all looked up. "What's wrong?" Lancelot asked instantly.

Jarrah scurried back to the door. "She's having twins," she said over her shoulder before shutting the door again. Lancelot went pale a second time as he received pats on the back.

Sparrow forced out one more push, letting out a shrieking scream. Another infant cry filled the air. "It's a boy," Jamari laughed delightfully. "Poor Lancelot is gonna have his hands full." Sparrow let herself completely collapse into the sheets of the bed with a moan of delight.

* * *

Rhyne's eyes fluttered open with a groan as she felt the numbness set in. She heard a scramble to her side, and then footsteps. "Tell the Lady she is awake," she the urgent voice of a girl. She was beside the bed again. "It's okay. You're in Avalon. My name is Morgaine, training to be a priestess." Rhyne turned her head and looked over the girl. She was younger than Sparrow and could see the distinct features of the Southern British Tribes in her face. Sweeping black hair and sparking blue eyes. She could feel the powers of the Goddess radiating from her. By instinct, Rhyne knew a long path lay before the girl in life. One of both greatness and sorrow.

"Welcome back, child," said an eloquent voice from the doorway. Rhyne squinted in the light that swept into the room as the woman walked into the room. Her lilac and periwinkle gown was adoringly simple, yet was beyond elegant. The blackest of hair lay in perfect curls and braids down to her hips. "You had us worried for a long time." She smiled. Rhyne could see the waves of magic to sent all around her. "I am Viviane. Lady of the Lake." Rhyne opened her mouth to speak. "Shh," Viviane silence her gently. "Save your strength. You will need it."

Viviane set her hand on Rhyne's forehead and sent her back into a peaceful sleep. "Why did you send her back to sleep?"

The High Priestess glanced over to the young girl. "You have much still to learn, Morgaine. Raven has requested your help in the gardens. Run off now." The girl did as she was told.

* * *

Merlin stepped into the fortress hall. A full Round Table lay before him. Arthur and his knights. Guinevere to his right. As well as Sparrow and a number of other Woads that Arthur had found trust and friendship in the months passing the battle. Ywian and Agravain. Trusted fighters under Merlin. Morholt. A Woad with a Irish father who was commander of a group of misfits from the south. Along with Isolde and her younger sister Brangaine. Long companions and warriors under Guienvere's command that came from the tribes far in the north.

All silenced and their eyes landed on Merlin. "Rhyne is awake." For a moment, he was left with blinking faces, then there was an uproar of questions. He held his hands up for silence. "That is all the Lady told me. She would send more news a few more days time."

"Can we see her?" Galahad asked.

But it was not Merlin who answered. "Even if you were to find it, no one but those trained on the isle can open the doorway," Guinevere spoke.

"She's right," Sparrow cradled her three week old son, Accolon, in her arms. "None of us would ever make it through the mist." Lancelot laid a hand her shoulder, holding Accolon's twin sister, Eliane, close to his chest.

"So we have to wait," Gawain grumbled. "Again." Tristan silently stood and walked from the hall.

* * *

When Rhyne woke again, pillows were piled behind her to sit her up further. "She said you would wake soon." She recognized the voice of Morgaine. "I brought you some food and water." The girl helped her down a full glass of water before she moved on with the food. It was only then she realized just how hungry she was.

"You were injured in the battle with the Saxons?" Morgaine asked eagerly. Rhyne nodded. "I have never met a woman who fought before."

Rhyne gave all the smile she could muster. Even after the food she felt terribly weak. "My father was a Sarmatian and my mother a Woad under Merlin. I was trained with a sword when I was very young. And with a horse."

"And you are trained in magic?"

Rhyne chuckled. "In some. It is nothing compared to what you will learn here. I was too filled with revenge to vow myself as a priestess. You have taken a noble path."

"Viviane tells me I have the gift of Sight. It is my destiny to be a Priestesses."

"Aye," Rhyne nodded. "The Sight is a rare thing. I was gifted with it as well."

Morgaine leaned forward in her chair. "And you have had visions?"

"Some."

"And they have come true?"

Rhyne closed her eyes. "One did, yes," she said quietly.

"Enough questions, Morgaine," Viviane spoke from the doorway. "Our guest has only just woke." She nodded from the girl to leave them, and she did so. "How are you feeling?"

"Weak," Rhyne answered lightly.

"I expected as much. You would have recovered sooner if it was not for the baby. With it however, I'm afraid it is not that easy. The child will drain you of all your energy. You will never be healthy again."

"What are you saying?"

Viviane went grim. "You have a choice to make Rhyne. Only one of you can live. Yourself or the child." She sighed. "If you give birth, you will die. The poison did far too much damage. You will bleed out."

"What else did you have in mind. As you can see, I am far too much along to force a miscarriage, Lady," Rhyne drawled.

"There is a rite. That will take us all. It will take the child from you and..."

"He would die," Rhyne finished.

Viviane nodded. "As I said. You have a choice to make, Rhyne."

Rhyne looked the wise-woman in the eye. "Then you already know my answer."

The High Priestess nodded. "Very well."

"But I need to speak to someone first, and I can't do it alone. I'm not strong enough."

Viviane smiled and gave a short nod. "Sleep. You will need your strength for tonight." Rhyne relaxed her body and gave into dreams.

When Rhyne awoke again she felt s number of presences around her. "Open your eyes, Rhyne. We are almost ready." It was Viviane. "Morgaine, give her the tea." The girl brought her head up to help her down the tea. "It will force on the actions of birth. It will take a little time to take affect. Meanwhile, we'll see if we can help you connect."

Rhyne could see that there were five women in the room, including the Lady. Only one other held the orange gown that went beyond initiation. She could see they were around the same age. Rhyne smiled, wondering if that could have ever been here. Perhaps another would be in her position if she did decide to take the offer from Avalon. The woman saw Rhyne smiling after her. She knelt down beside the bed. "I am Caillean. Come from the tribe of the Novantae."

"Novantae..." Rhyne whispered. "I never thought I would see one of my own people."

She smiled. "Nor I. It is a pleasure to serve you my Queen."

"I will not be one much longer."

"But you are one now." Rhyne took her hand and squeezed it lightly. Caillean smiled. "I shall deliver the child back to your home myself, if that pleases you."

"It does."

"We are ready. Circle the bed ladies. Morgaine, take the head." The girl looked to Viviane in a alarm. "You can do it, Morgaine." Morgaine knelt behind Rhyne's head, setting her palms on her forehead. Rhyne could feel five pair of hands make contact with her skin. "You lead us, Rhyne. We will follow," the High Priestess whispered.

Rhyne closed her eyes with a long breath and she reached out her soul.

* * *

Tristan could feel the stand beneath him. The sounds of waves hit his ears. The last he thought, he was in his room at the Wall fort. How could he be on the coast? "Open your eyes..." a distant voice whispered. Hesitating, he did so. A clear blue sky lay above him. He sat up and found, he indeed was on a beach. One if he remembered, that was on the eastern shores of the Wall. This has to be a dream...

"You must be tired," a familiar voice sounded behind him. "It took longer to summon you than I would have thought."

His head turned with a soft look of despair, knowing that it couldn't be her. That she couldn't be here. She was ill in Avalon. How ever far away that was from here. Her red hair lay perfectly about her shoulders, and the white gown hung comfortably from a healed body. Rhyne smiled.

"This is a dream," he said, standing.

"Yes," she nodded. "But with the help from the priestesses, we are able to speak...one last time." She eyes turned away from him to the sand at their feet.

Tristan couldn't find himself to go any closer. "Last?"

The glint in her eyes faded. "I'm dying." He shook his head in rejection of what she was saying. "It is something no one can stop," she looked back to him. "My fate lies here."

"Why did you come for us? You could have been safe in the north."

"And leave you to die. You knew me better than that. Even when we were children," she teased.

Tristan took a few steps forward. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"It wasn't your burden to bare. The duty was given to me, and me alone. We couldn't share it." Rhyne tilted her head as she looked at him. "You have always been better than you thought yourself to be, Tristan. You were never a merciless killer as many thought you to be. Everything you did, you did for the same reasons as I."

"And what's that?"

"Love, of course. Something, that until now, I always failed to learn. I did not come back for revenge. I came back for you. For all of you." Rhyne saw the distress in his expressions. "Death is not the end, Tristan. It only a different beginning. We'll find each other again. Whether in this life, or the next. We always have."

Something made him look at her in a whole different light. She was no longer a student. But the teacher. "I can't lose you," he murmured, taking another step forward.

"You never did." They were silent for a moment. "Tell Sparrow that she is Queen now. The priestess Caillean, she and Sparrow will bring back the glory of our people."

He nodded taking another step. He was only a few feet from her now. "I love you." It took all his strength to say those words. It felt too much like a goodbye.

"I know," Rhyne replied. "And don't worry. I'll be watching. Always." They reached out their hands. Their fingertips touch before a blinding light exploded between them, and to each, the other was gone.

* * *

Rhyne was forced back to the present as a wave of pain strummed through her body. She breathed out a groan in reply. The priestesses opened their eyes from a daze and all stood. "It's starting," Viviane said. She took the hand of Morgaine. "Well done." The girl smiled.

Rhyne grabbed Viviane's hand. The High Priestess knelt beside her. "Tell them to burn me."

She smiled warmly. "I will."

"Thank you, My Lady. For everything."

The High Priestess nodded. "Strength, Child."

Rhyne could feel her strength leaving fast. She knew she would bleeding. She could feel the heat of the liquid beneath her. Caillean was behind, holding both of her hands, willing her to go with each word in her ear. Margaine kept dabbing away the sweat from her forehead. They didn't have much time left. She knew Viviane was thinking the same. The High Priestess had changed into a plain white gown to help with the birth. Her worry filled the room.

For the first time in years, Rhyne wished her mother was beside her. It was that, more than anything else, is what she needed most. She thought of everyone she lost. Her family. Conner. The knights. And all her friends in the north. Each face passed in her mind. Rhyne wasn't sure if it was because she was so close to death, or it was Avalon herself answering her prayers. But she felt them there. Everyone of them. Pleading her to soldier one through the pain.

"One more, Rhyne. One big push," Viviane commanded. "You can do this child."

Rhyne set her head in the pillows and took one last breath. With a scream she pushed with all her might. A cry besides her own filled the room. "It's a boy," Viviane said pulling the newborn infant into her lap.

Rhyne's body went limp in utter exhaustion. She looked at the crying child. "Let me hold him." Viviane wrapped him in a fine cloth set the child on her chest. Rhyne stroked his forehead with her thumb. It was all the movement she could manage. "Hello, Aodhán." With help from Caillean, Rhyne picked up her head and kissed his forehead. "Be good for your father," she whispered. Her eyes fluttered as a single tear fell. Her head fell back. "Tristan..." she said in a struggled whisper. Her body went still and head turned slightly to the right.

Aodhán began to cry on his mother's chest.


	33. Until We Meet Again

_**Disclaimer:...always the same**_

_**OMG...I'm so sorry this took so long...I hate saying that every time I post a new chapter...This one was quite difficult though...The last few pages were hard to get out...it was tough to find an end...anyway...I hope you guys enjoy this...**_

_**There is just a short epilogue left...that wont take me but a few days...I'm going to start to write it as soon as I post this...may even be up tomorrow if I'm lucky...**_

_**anyway...enjoy...**_

Chapter Thirty-Three

Until We Meet Again

_The woman had raven black hair, and the bluest eyes. The style of her orange gown and pendant around her neck labeled her as a child of Avalon. She held a small gold cup in her hands. Her palms raised to an ornate ceiling and called out to the Goddess. _

Sparrow woke with a start. Sweat formed at every pour. Her long curls stuck to her skin. She stood on her trembling feet and stepped across the room to a basin of water. Her shaking hands cupped water in the palms and cooled her face slightly with a struggled breath. Sparrow leaned on the ceramic bowl, still trying to catch her breath.

"Sparrow?" Lancelot's voice startled her. She let out a sigh. "You alright?"

"Yeah," she forced her voice into a state of calm. "Just a dream." She hoped, beyond everything she knew, that she was right. But deep down, she knew it wasn't a normal dream. Her head began to throb with every beat of her heart. Only a few from every generation in the world were gifted with visions. And they tended to travel through blood.

Sparrow clenched her eyes shut. She didn't want this. It was a responsibility her mother had always worn well. But not her. She could never have her mother's courage. She had always been less willing to defy any kind of established authority, where as her dear mother sometimes rebelled for the sheer pleasure of their anger. That was bravery. Perhaps a foolish bravery, but bravery none the less. She wouldn't even deny Merlin's orders. Which Rhyne did quite often and ever without a second thought.

"Just a dream..." she repeated, trying to convince herself.

Elaine began to cry softly from her bassinet. Lancelot groaned as he threw the furs away from him. He pulled on a pair of trousers to cover his nakedness before picking up the child within her blankets. Sparrow stifled a laugh. Many of his habits had changed since the arrival of the twins. Lancelot cradled the infant in his arms and sat back onto the bed. Sparrow took a deep breath and joined him, looking at their daughter over his shoulder.

She smiled. Rhyne had always spoke about the miracle of children. Only now being a mother she she realized how right that was. She set her cheek on her lover's shoulder and studied his face. Even now, almost a month after the birth, he held that twinkle of awe in his eyes whenever he looked their son or daughter. "Still amazed by them. You'd think you never saw a baby before."

"The last time I loved a baby," he explained softly, "was my younger sister. I was only six summers, but the first time I held her, I made a promise. That I would always protect her. I did the same to these two." Sadness flashed across his face for a short moment. Then it was gone.

She kissed his shoulder. "When they are a few years older, we will see your family. I promise." He only nodded. She looked back down at Elaine. The girl studied her father quietly. "They have your eyes," Sparrow smiled.

"And your everything else," Lancelot said.

"Bless them," Sparrow breathed in a mock relief. She was sure he would have tackled her if it wasn't for Elaine in his arms. She put one arm around his shoulders. "You're going to spoil her rotten, aren't you?"

"Any daughter of Lancelot will get anything she wants," he announced proudly.

"Even a lover?"

Sparrow had to hold in a laugh as she saw his face pale a bit. "That...she'll have to wait a bit," he stuttered.

This time she did laugh. "She's going to love someone, sooner or later."

"I'd rather the later." She chuckled tracing a finger across his cheek. He looked thoughtfully at her. "I wish I found you long ago," he almost whispered.

"You did," she whispered. She held up her scarred palm. "We just don't remember." He leaned over to kiss her, but window shutters flew open and a cold breeze wrapped around her. The hair on his neck rose as she saw her face. Her eyes almost clouded over, and she gave an expression that seemed miles from where they sat. She stood immediately. "They are coming now," she stated plainly.

"What? Who?" The disgruntled cries of the twins rose in unison.

"Avalon. And..." her voice faltered and her smile faded into something Lancelot could not place. "No..." she gave a struggled whisper and dashed for the door.

"What the—Sparrow!" he entered the hall, but she was already out of sight. He looked from Elaine in his arms to down the hall, the direction he guessed his lover went down. A young maid appeared around the corner at the other end. "Hay! Lana—right?" She nodded. "Watch these two for a minute, would you?" But he didn't wait for an answer as he forced the child in her arms, threw on the first tunic he could find and ran out the door.

* * *

Guinevere had slept fitfully all night, mumbling incoherent words through a deep frown. Arthur lay wide awake, his arms tucked around her. There was much that kept him awake for long hours since their victory over the Saxons four months prior. And being a newly crowned king was the least of them. The population at the fort was already too high, and more people came everyday. A permanent village was already being built outside the southern gates. But they couldn't stay here forever. It was Sparrow who suggested that they move south. There was a larger Roman fortress in the Southern Plains. Until a new fortress could be built, they would live at Caerloen. And their plan for a new home not too far from that. Either way, the south is what needed help now.

The Northern lands of this island were strongly protected by the Woads. They had few objectives to their new leadership above the wall. But the South still lay divided, and fighting amongst each other for rule. That was where Arthur's largest disfavor lie. And before it turned into a civil war, some type of peace needed to be found. A common ground. He had no doubts that the Irish already knew about their division, and soon, may try to take Britannia for their own. But building a new home would take years. So Caerloen would have to do for now. They were already preparing for the long trek South. They needed to be there before winter set in. Gawain and Galahad were particularly anxious for the move. As soon as Jamari gave birth, they planned on traveling home to Sarmatia, and staying for a season. Arthur sighed. He needed them with him now more than ever. But how could he deny their request? It was something they had definitely earned. They had always longed for home more than any others of the Sarmatians he has commanded. And Gawain needed to give the news of Gareth to his family. It has been a burden he has carried since his brother's death. It would still be a short loss for them, even if it was just one season.

Then there was producing an heir. Considering their other duties, in Arthur's mind, it was the least of their worries. They had years ahead of them, and plenty of time for children. But Merlin was right, having a legitimate heir would solidify his rule, and most would have no choice to follow him. After all the years and generations of Roma occupation, Britannia was looking for a long bloodline. Not a new king every few years. Only a long bloodline of kings would bring the country out of it's weak state and bred into power. Now that Rome was gone, other empires will want to lay claim. And he was sure that had not seen the last of the Saxons. The Irish weere right next door. A formidable enemy.

Then there was the last and perhaps the most prominent worry that plagued him everyday. Rhyne, lying ill and close to death in Avalon. But she was awake. That was at least some good news. It had lifted all their spirits since that news arrived from Avalon. Which was almost two days ago. There were a few more smiles since, from everyone, at the possibility of Rhyne returning alive and well. Her absence certainly weighed heavily on all their hearts each time they meet at the Round Table, what the locals have come to call it. Even with all the additions to their circle, Rhyne's chair beside Tristan still lay empty.

Arthur kissed Guinevere's hair and carefully pulled his arm from beneath her. He secured the furs up to her chin and pulled on his discarded trousers. He wiped both hands over his face as he approached the window. Tristan, he though with an exhausted groan. He was another worry entirely. Sure, he had always been silent and stoic before. But never like this, especially since Rhyne's return. Speaking only when he must. Communicating mostly in a shake or nod of his head. Not going to the tavern. Meandering in the stables and on the practice fields. Taking exceedingly long rides, alone. On occasion with Sparrow. And each time he claimed they were just scouting trips. He didn't want anyone to sneak up on them. And even took a hunting trip with his permission and was gone for weeks. Although, he did come back with a good amount of furs and meat of all sorts. And given the growing population, it was something they desperately needed.

He was building the walls of isolation higher than they had ever been before. And only two seemed to be worried about him besides Arthur. Merlin and Sparrow.

Sparrow...

Arthur shook his head with a small smile. For the last four months she has been composed better than any of them. She was Rhyne's daughter after all. He shouldn't have expected anything less. Even alongside caring for the twins, she had bared the burden well. It was a relief for him that he didn't have to keep his eye on her. Sparrow's age meant nothing to anyone now. With being raped, learning about her father, having the twins, her mother's state and dealing with Lancelot, she far from a young girl any longer. She carried the wisdom of any seasoned warrior, or seasoned mother.

He showed the ghost of a smile as the sun peaked out over the hilltops in the green distance. Lancelot and Sparrow were perfect for each other. Each of them stepping up and challenging the other. Anyone else would be hard pressed to catch up to either of them. And the twins have kept them busy enough. No matter how odd it was to Lancelot a father, every time he sees his old friend with either of the infants he was proven wrong. Sparrow and the twins were the prefect medium for Lancelot's wild nature.

The Briton king closed his eyes again and prayed, no, pleaded that Rhyne would survive. More than anyone else, he needed her by his side. Even when they were young she had been a constant for him. Whether for comfort, friendship or advise. It was hard losing her once, and was unsure how he would get through the grief again if she died. Rhyne was one of the few that would be there for him no matter the events of consequences. His knights, men that were closer than brothers to him, would follow him anywhere, that's true. But Rhyne was different. She walked beside him, not behind. Rhyne was his guide. He was already empty enough without her here. But if she died, he would be blind.

Who would take her place is she was gone? Who could? Not even Guinevere could take that position.

His thoughts were broken when a pair of hurried footsteps passed his door and down the hall. "Sparrow!" He recognized Lancelot's voice. Arthur furrowed his brow. What was going on?

Guinevere sat up at the commotion. "Something's wrong," she said instantly. Arthur's stomach fell.

* * *

Tristan was grooming Zyfer again. He knew the stallion felt the same loneliness as he. They could both use the company. Though, Zyfer's behavior wasn't helping anyone. The only ones he would let get close to him was Tristan and Sparrow. The absence of Rhyne was the only reason for the horse's brooding. He knew Hawk was gone. Those two shared a relationship like any other humans. Even his own animal companion was missing her newly found friends.

Hawk had been a member of their table as the other knights. To honor all the lives he protected, Arthur had him buried in the graveyard on Badon Hill, beside Gareth. And the mark of the wolf's grave, the sword of Cedric. Hawk's last victim. Somewhat. He certainly played a part in the Saxon's demise. Bors had laughed heartily as Arthur pounded the sword at the grave's head. "As good a knight as any of us," he bellowed with a smile. Many of them certainly would miss the wolf, even if it only was for a few laughs.

With a final stroke, Tristan sat down the brush and pat the black stallion's cheek. Zyfer leaned into his hand with a long breath. He pulled out as apple half from his trouser pocket. Zyfer smelled is at once and snatched it from his hand. Tristan pat the animal's neck once more before he latched the stall shut. He lowered himself onto a vale of hay. He had told no one about the dream, if it was a dream at all. Every fiber of his being wanted to deny it. But it had felt so real, unlike any dream he remembered. He felt the magic. Though, he assumed that was because of Avalon. Rhyne's magic was nothing to that of the priestesses that retrieved her ailing body. He could not even sense that power from Merlin.

He woke that night, and couldn't find himself to close his eyes again. He hadn't found sleep since. It had been two days. He knew Arthur was keeping an eye on him, even if the king didn't mean for him to notice. Sparrow on the other hand was almost an annoyance. Asking the same question everyday since Rhyne went off to the magic isle. 'How are you doing?' How did she bloody think he was doing? He took mostly to just snorting as an answer these days.

He was empty. That's how he felt. Especially since the dream. There was a deep hole inside him, where everything he ever felt for her lay. Only a dark, empty void rest there now. Of he didn't know what. He never understood those feelings the first time she was taken from him. How could he possibly understand them now. Because he was older? Because he had seen blood? That fine line between life and death. Or because finally, he understood what she meant to him? How much he really did miss her. He loved her, yes. But only now did he know how much. All those stories and poems that told of undying love and such, he knew it now. Because that's what he felt for her.

Zyfer leaned his head down over the stall door and nudged Tristan's head. Looking for more apple no doubt. He reached up and pat his nose. "Sorry, my friend. I'll bring more tomorrow."

An orange glow from the rising sun began to fill the stables. "I'll take you for a run later." The stallion nodded his head in agreement and pattered his hooves with impatience. Tristan scratched behind Zyfer's ear before moving to his own horse companion, and made his way to the stable door.

The sky shone a pale gold. Almost uplifting. The days were rare when the sun rose to a perfectly clear sky. A sign maybe? Though, he never put much stock in magic and omens. If the gods wanted to warn them, they could bloody well come down here and do it themselves. Rhyne had changed his outlook on the mysterious powers of the world. Perhaps they weren't as useless as they seemed. But, the gods still angered them. What right did they have of giving one a duty to perform alone? An impossible one at that? She had always been he best of them. What else was there to prove?

A rush of people appeared from around the corner, heading quickly towards the southern battlements. Among them, Gawain pulling a very grumpy looking Jamari and Jarrah irritably dragging a half asleep Galahad. "Tristan! Did you see it?!" The tawny hair knight called to him. "Avalon is coming!"

Tristan stood rooted to the stop for a moment, before he found his feet instinctively following them. A large crowd had already gathered. He took the steps two at a time, and ran along the stone path, finding a space beside Sparrow and Lancelot on the crenelated wall. The same murmuring passed between all. A fog had gathered on the horizon and was slowly making it's way towards the fort. Only once before had they seen such behavior. He glanced down at the woman next to him. One he had taken as a daughter. She kept her eyes ahead, a look of great despair shaping her features. He looked up at Lancelot, who had an arm around her. The dark knight just shrugged.

Whatever had Sparrow worried, worried him as well. Each day since Rhyne was taken to Avalon, she showed more and more of her mother's mysterious traits. One's perhaps that only he had noticed. But he never questioned her about them. He was sure they caused her enough stress. And if Rhyne's gifts were passed on to her, what could that mean? Only someone expecting the worse would at the fog with grief. The others were smiling and restless for the return of the hero of Badon Hill. Many were also gathering in the village below, one they helped build larger with everyday as more and more people arrived.

The fog stopped before the main street of the village. The sun escaped the last peaks of the mountains that held it captive, and blinded them with ferocious light. The fog dissipated and a number of forms emerged. All wearing the gowns of Avalon. Two women led the line down the dirt road the village market. Both in gowns of dark blue. The shorter of the two held a small bundle in her arms. Behind them, four others in gowns of pale gold walked beside a cart pulled by a pure white horse.

And on the cart, a sight that broke every gazing heart. Tristan felt his legs begin to tremble. Sparrow buried her face into Lancelot's chest, his arms firmly wrapped around her. Her body shaking in silent sobs. Screams of agony went up all around him. A tearful Arthur and Guinevere embraced fiercely. He felt what was left of him shatter. Numbly, he took each stair down the stone wall to meet the ladies as they reached the gate.

Merlin was already taking the hand of the leading woman. Both faces in somber grief. The shaman approached the body wrapped in a white veil. He set a hand on her forehead. "My darling child," his voice broke.

Tristan called to his feet to move forward, but he couldn't find the strength. It had been real. The dream. She had come to him to say goodbye. To prepare him for sorrow. What had she said? _Death is not the end, Tristan._ How could it be anything else? This was the end for him. What was he now? She was everything that was good in him.

He barely registered Arthur passing him and falling to his knees, clutching Rhyne's head in his hands with a terrible cry. An openly crying Guinevere fell into the arms of her father. No one could hold back their tears. Tarí held a weeping Lucan to her, Dagonet holding them both to him tightly. Bors could only watch silently, despair written in his expression, tears falling down his burly cheeks.

"My brave sister!" Arthur cried. "I have failed you! You saved us all, and none could find the strength to save you!" He dropped his forehead onto hers. "The best of us all."

Guinevere stepped away from her father as the Lady of the Lake spoke. "Her fate was one none of you can share. She gave her own life so that your paths may yet be fulfilled."

"She's right," Bors said, wiping his tears. "She chose her own fate." He took a long breath and added quietly, "As did we all."

Tristan, face hidden by a curtain of dark, messy hair, stepped forward. He laid a hand on Arthur's shoulder. The king backed away. Tristan traced a finger down Rhyne's cheek, them carefully took her body into his arms. He turned and paced through the crowd. All heads followed him in silence, and confusion. In truth, he didn't even know where he was taking her. No one dared stop him as more emerged from their homes. They all knew who he carried. He arrived at a door he had walked through just two days ago. He pushed through the double doors and stopped.

A beam of sunlight shone through one of the high windows, settling on the Round Table. The wood glowed in the soft light. He stepped forward, laying her body on the warm surface. He carefully pulled the veil from around her face and looked on her numbly. The skin was still a warm olive. The magic of the Goddess was still at work. She could merely be sleeping. He leaned down and kissed her forehead lightly, almost expecting the lids to lift and expose a pair of emerald eyes, and a soft hand to rest on his cheek. But it never came. Then, it hit him. A wave of loss that he had never felt before.

A single tear passed down his cheek. With a twinge of rage, Tristan grabbed the nearest chair and threw it at thew all violently. It shattered into a ruin of dark mahogany pieces. The hatred did nothing to overcome his grief. A ragged sob overwhelmed the fatigue of his muscles. He allowed the urge to fight back die within, and finally succumbed to tears. A hand reached out, intending to find the arm of a chair, but he had no more strength left. His legs collapsed. His palms found the edge of the table as his knees met the stone floor. Rivers of hot tears ran down his face.

Tristan closed his eyes, but the her face didn't disappear. A bombardment of images flashed before him, building upon the weight of his pain. When they first met. Teaching him to dance. When she left for the North. Her grin as she finally returned. The content glow of her face after they made love. Her laugh every night in the tavern. Her relief when she knew Sparrow was safe. And hundreds of other memories that bombarded his senses.

Lazily, he pushed himself into a chair and gazed at her face, not bothering to wipe his tears. The doors to the room opened. He did not look up. He didn't care. At this moment, no one could possibly bring him comfort.

"Death is only another part of the life we must endure," a soft female voice filled the void. Tristan turned his head. The other priestess in a gown of dark blue stepped lightly towards him, something wrapped in her arms. "It is not an end." He studied her silently. "I am Calliean. My Lady charged me with one task before she left us." She set the bundle in her arms into his. A soft gurgle passed the infant's lips. "Your son, my Lord."

Tristan cradled the child in his arms tenderly, albeit a tad awkwardly. It had been many years since he held a baby. He was twelve when he held his youngest sister in his arms. The child looked up at him, calculating the new face. "She named him Aodhán." He did not hide his intake of breath. "Is there something wrong, my Lord?"

A tear passed down his cheek, falling into his son's blankets. "It was my older brother's name. He died of fever when he was eighteen."

Calliean gave a soft smile and set a hand on his shoulder. "There is no greater blessing than a child. He is a gift from the Gods." She paused, taking the boy's hand in her fingers. "He will be a great man, and give you much to be proud of." She squeezed his shoulder slightly and turned for the doorway. She gave one more look over her shoulder. "She would not want you to mourn her for a lifetime," she whispered. "She is at peace," and she left him alone, closing the doors behind her.

Tristan did not stop his falling tears. He hugged Aodhán closer to him. "Hello...my son..." he whispered. The boy reached up and clenched his fingers around one of Tristan's braids. And for the first time in many, many months...he smiled. "My son..." he repeated.

* * *

The burning pyre was set atop of Badon Hiill the next day, as to Rhyne's last wishes. It was dusk. The sun disappeared behind the distant mountains only a few moments before and the first stars began to come alive in the darkening sky. All of the fort was gathered to witness the funeral precession. The body wrapped in the same pure white veil.

As she was laid on the pyre, Tristan stepped forward, Aodhán asleep in his arms. He lifted the veil from her face, and kissed her cheek one last time. "Sleep well, my love...until we meet again." He replaced the silk white cloth and stepped back in line between Arthur and Sparrow, both glistening with tears. Tristan had made peace with her death as his son fell asleep in his arms last night She was right. Death was not the end. They would meet again, even if it is lifetimes from now, they would see each other again. He held comfort in that.

A small yawn captured his attention. "Hello there, my boy," he said with a smile.

Sparrow wiped her face, took a deep breath, and raised her voice in a low melody. A song of grief and sorrow, and of hope.

_In my hands  
A legacy of memories  
I can hear you say my name  
I can almost see your smile  
Feel the warmth of your embrace  
But there is nothing but silence now  
Around the one I loved  
Is this our farewell? _

Sweet darling you worry too much, my child  
See the sadness in your eyes  
You are not alone in life  
Although you might think that you are

Never thought  
This day would come so soon  
We had no time to say goodbye  
How can the world just carry on?  
I feel so lost when you are not by my side  
But there's nothing but silence now  
Around the one I loved  
Is this our farewell?

So sorry your world is tumbling down  
I will watch you through these nights  
Rest your head and go to sleep  
Because my child, this not our farewell.  
This is not our farewell. 

Sparrow clenched her eyes shut and welcomed the comforting arm of Lancelot as he wrapped it around her shoulders. Tristan bounced a fussing Aodhán lightly in his arms. Calliean came from behind the scout, cooing the baby softly. She took him from his arms as three torches were passed to him, Arthur and Lancelot. They looked at each other and nodded, lighting the oil soaked wood in unison. The fire rose, reaching its spidery fingers towards the sky.

Aodhán began to cry in the priestess's arms. Tristan took him to his chest. "Worry not, my son, you will see your mother again."

Calliean narrowed her eyes into the blaze. "What is that?" she whispered to Tristan. At first, he did not know what she meant. But then, in the middle of the roaring flames, a white shimmer of light grew brighter. More caught notice and began to step back in fear. Then a blindling light erupting from within, and all turned away from its force. But as their sight returned, a collective gasp ran through all who were near. There she stood, before the fire, real as flesh, an unworldly glow around her.

Rhyne smiled. "I have been sent to give you one last message. You have long and hard lives set before you. The battle for this country is far from over. This is just beginning. These are only your first losses. One never stops being a knight. You have many quests and many missions still to complete. You will forge the history of this nation that will never again be known. Serve her well, and you will be remembered. And as for those that have given their lives, their deaths are cause for neither mourning nor sadness. For they will live forever, names and deeds handed down from father to son, mother to daughter for centuries to come. In the legends of King Arthur and his knights." Rhyne stopped and looked at each of them. "Farewell." She grinned. "Until we meet again." She turned and disappeared into the fire.


	34. Epilogue

_**Disclaimer: same as always…**_

_**Alright..here it is….the last chapter, finally after almost three years…I told you I'd have it up today…**_

_**I would like to thank all my readers, especially those who reviewed and those that have been there from the beginning…I immensely enjoyed writing this story, even though it has been a right pain sometimes…that's all part of the fun…and I have also enjoyed watching all of you read it. **_

_**I am trying to come up with something for a sequel…I just need to do a bit more planning before I start to post…but I will tell you that it will be about the next generation. **_

_**I hope you guys have enjoyed it and PLEASE tell me what you think of this ending…I've changed the ending so many times…but this, along with the previous chapter was the only one that felt right…love you all…and thank you…**_

_**Just to let you guys know…in case you're confused…Aodhan is pronounced oh-da-han…and Tristan will call him Aodh…for short…that's oh-da.**_

Epilogue

Ten Years Later

Tristan reveled in the calm of early morning, the most peaceful part of his day. He closed his eyes, intent on capturing as much sleep as possible before the storm awakens, but it was too late. His door slammed open and a small creature leapt onto the bed. Tristan did everything he could to look asleep.

"Father!" the voice demanded. He didn't move. "Father! I know you're awake." Strong arms pulled him down into the furs. Aodhán erupted in laughter.

"Yes, I'm awake," his father groaned as he took in the sight of his son. A spitting image of himself with the skin of his mother. Dark brown hair to his shoulders complete with sporatic braids. Tristan smiled to himself. The boy had refused to have it done any other way. He wanted to be just like his father. Sparking emerald eyes looked him over. Her eyes.

"It's almost sunrise. You promised," the boy pleaded.

"Did I?"

"Yes," his son ordered.

"Alright. Better get ready then." A whoop escaped the child's mouth as he disappeared through the door he entered. Tristan shook his head with a smile and forced himself to his feet.

* * *

Tristan trotted down the stairs to the kitchens, Aodhán at his heels and saddlebags over their shoulders. The room was already bustling with activity for the morning meal, which they would miss today. He found the woman he was seeking and weaved through the sweating cooks and bus boys. Vanora, wearing a crisp blue gown found that managing a kitchen and tavern was much more delightful than working in one. Arthur put her to work right way when they moved into their new home six years prior.

She smiled as she saw them approach. "Tristan, I have your things here." She stuffed the sacks into their bags and kissed the boy on his cheek, much to his dismay. "Be safe dears."

"Thank you, Miss Vanora," Aodhán chirped. A blur of commotion ran through them, laughing as it went. Aodhán was knocked off his feet and Vanora into the shelves behind her. "GILLY! How many times do I have to tell you…NO RUNNING IN THE KITCHENS! You're not a child anymore! I will disown you if you grow up to be your father, mark my words!"

"Sorry mother!" He cried, charging up the stairs, a group of toddlers chasing after him.

Vanora cleared her red face with a huff and helped Aodhán to his feet. "Promise me you will not become such a miscreant."

"Yes, ma'am."

The adults smiled. "That's a good boy. Run along now." Tristan nodded his head in appreciation and pushed his son towards the exit. "You take care of that boy or you'll have me to answer to Tristan!" she ordered as they quickly hopped up the stairs.

"We'll be alright, won't we, father?"

"There's always a danger, Aodh, and we will be prepared if there is. But yes, things will be fine." Tristan set a comforting hand on his son's shoulder as they made down the main steps of the fortress and into the morning air.

A series of hollers and clangs caught their attention as they came around the corner towards the practice fields. The boy smiled. "Look father, it's Accolon and Uncle Lance." Tristan nodded in approval and his son ran forward.

The dark curly haired boy swung a practice sword towards his father. Lancelot blocked them easily. "Good! Keep your feet balanced." Accolon did as instructed and tried again. The dark knight grinned. "Excellent."

Tristan took a spot beside his son on the fence. Lancelot turned towards them. "Good morning my friends." The scout raised a hand in greeting. Lancelot lowered his sword, intending to walk over, but an unexpected swing of his son's sword behind the knees caught him off guard. He fell to his back with a puff of dust. The boys roared with laughter as Tristan shook his head in mirth.

Lancelot joined in, pulling his son down with him. They wrestled in the dirt for a few moments before Lancelot threw Accolon over his shoulder and walked towards their audience. "What has you up before the sun?" Tristan teased.

The knight set his son's feet on the floor and took a deep breath. Aodhán and Accolon began talking animatedly about their current training. The fathers looked on them fondly for a moment before turning back towards each other. "Sparrow was throwing up all night."

"Is she alright?"

Lancelot grinned. "More than alright. Merlin came by…She's pregnant." Tristan shook his head with a smile. "Yeah. So she's unpacking, albeit not too happily."

"I can imagine. She's too much like her mother." They both nodded in agreement.

The dark knight sighed. "Yet again, a few more years until we go to Sarmatia. She was real excited about it this time."

"It will go by quicker than you'd think. Sianna is already four."

"Aye," Lancelot nodded. "Calliean believes she will be called as a priestess. Claims that she can feel the power of her gift." He paused. "She's like her grandmother."

"Aye," Tristan agreed and their attention was turned back to their sons. "Alright, Aodh, you ready?"

The boy's smile grew wider. "Yes, father."

"Let's go then." Tristan slapped Lancelot's shoulder in farewell.

* * *

Aodhán hustled passed the lines of warhorses to his own smoky mare, Senua, the second offspring of Isolde and Zyfer. The two great warhorses were both retired from fighting many years before, and their affection turned towards each other, producing both Senua and Tristan's current five-year-old jet black stallion, Joba.

A familiar woman, dressed in a pale blue gown scratched the nose of Joba as he chewed on the apple half in her hand. Calliean smiled as they approached. She had gotten attached to life at the fort. She had not lived outside the confines of Avalon for over a decade. She was a comforting advisor to the world's harsh ways when she first entered their lives, and she couldn't bare to leave them. Spending her months between the knights and her priestesses, Calliean became quite good friends with many among them. Especially the children. Aodhán adored her, as she did him. It had always sat well with Tristan. She cared for him with motherly affection, and that came in very short supply for his son since his birth.

The boy embraced her before beginning to ready Senua for departure.

"Hello, Tristan. I've been keeping your friends company," she smiled, patting the cheek of Joba who neighed affectionately. He kissed her forehead.

"Have you been back long?"

"I just arrived. The Lady kept me a few more days than planned." He hands traveled over her dress, subconsciously straightening its slight wrinkles.

"Aodh is always happy to have you back," Tristan said lightly.

"As I am to have him. I do miss you when I am away…both of you." She turned her attention back to Joba.

"It's good, perhaps Sparrow could use your company," he said.

She glanced at him hopefully. "I was hoping to arrive before they had gone."

Tristan shook his head with a smile. "They're not. She's pregnant again."

Calliean could not decide on whether to show a smile or a frown. "Oh, dear. Perhaps I should go visit."

"Father…" Aodhán protested at Tristan's laziness.

"Well, it seems my son is in a hurry," he smiled. Calliean nodded, saying farewell to them both before exiting the stables.

They trotted out the gate as the sun began to peak over the mountains hills behind them, setting the fortress towers in an eerie orange glow. Aodhán couldn't hide the excitement on his face. His first scouting trip with his father was a day he was looking forward to for many years. He would finally learn how to be a knight.

Tristan allowed himself to smile at his son's pleasure. Calliean had been right, all those years before. A child is a blessing, the greatest of them all. They change you in ways that no one can imagine, not even yourself. "You know, father," Aodhán interrupted his thoughts.

"What?"

"I think Calliean likes you."

"She likes all of us. That is why she stays here."

"No," the boy replied, irritated. "I mean _likes_ you."

Tristan furrowed his brow. "Why do you think that?"

"She is always so quiet around you, like how Uncle Bors says you were quiet around mother."

Tristan laughed. "Aodh, Bors is the last person you should seek the truth from."

"But father, you are quiet around her too," he added.

Tristan's grin faded into a thoughtful smile Joba stopped at his command and he looked back at their home. Aodhán followed his lead.

Camelot certainly had become the center of the country when she was finally finished. The village outside the fortress walls had grown steadily over the years, as the people began to migrate closer for its protection. But with the Saxons pushed back and the Irish receding, the danger seemed to be fading, and the population at Camelot began to decrease. It was safe to farm in the wilds again. Tristan remembered the burning pyre on top of Badon Hill. What Rhyne had told them, and how she too, was right. Saxons were only the beginning and they had suffered many more loses. And perhaps this wasn't yet the end. But he had no worries. Tristan glanced at his son. The next generation was strong. Aodhán and Accolon and many others will one day take their father's places and carry them with pride. And it would be their turn to lead their people out of the darkness and into the light.

A rustle from the trees behind them caught their attention. They both went for their bows, waiting. Joba stomped his hooves impatiently, hoping for a battle. As Tristan pulled an arrow taut, the intruder exited the green cover to their right. He smiled. "It's alright, son. Put it down."

He obeyed with interest. "What is it?"

Tristan gazed on the white wolf with a small smile. "She's just an old friend." The female wolf looked at them and disappeared back into the trees. He was hoping she would appear. A wild companion he has had since they left the north ten years ago. She would never come close enough to touch, but he always felt her, close by, as if she was just watching over him.

He smiled with deep emotion as he waved his son forward, into the trees. Rhyne had not lied. She was always watching.

* * *

_**So…what did you think??? Sequeal worthy…tell me your opinion…**_


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